Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Suit
I held the phone close to my ear, feeling my heart rate spike on the monitor beside my bed. Thomas immediately leaned in, pressing his ear against the back of the receiver so he could hear every word.
"You shouldn't be calling me directly," I said, my voice cold and unyielding. "I am the victim in a felony assault case. You know it is illegal for you to contact me without my prosecutor present."
A soft, condescending chuckle came from the other end of the line.
"Mrs. Vance, please," Richard Vance said, his tone smooth and sickeningly polite. "Let’s speak as reasonable adults. I am calling as a family representative seeking to prevent a tragic, public destruction of your family's reputation. What happened this morning was a regrettable, emotional family dispute. A tragedy born of miscommunication."
"A broken rib is not a miscommunication, Mr. Vance," I retorted. "It is a crime."
"It is a complex situation," the lawyer corrected smoothly. "Marcus and Rachel are young, emotional, and deeply distressed by the sale of their ancestral home. If this goes to trial, Eleanor, it will take years. Your name will be dragged through the mud. The defense will be forced to present medical expert testimony questioning your cognitive stability, your history of depression following your husband’s death, and your financial management."
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a flash of white-hot anger replace my exhaustion. "Are you threatening me?"
"I am offering you an exit," he replied smoothly. "If you agree to drop the criminal complaint and sign an affidavit stating that the incident was an accidental fall during a heated argument, my clients will agree to accept a one-time settlement of one million dollars each from the farm proceeds. You keep the remaining million. You move into a high-end luxury retirement community of your choice, paid for from your share, and everyone walks away with their dignity intact."
Thomas drew his finger across his throat, shaking his head furiously.
I took a slow, deep breath, ignoring the stabbing pain in my side.
"Mr. Vance?" I said softly.
"Yes, Eleanor?" he answered, sounding confident, believing he had intimidated an old, injured woman into submission.
"I spent thirty years running a farm," I said, my voice ringing clear and hard as iron. "I’ve dealt with coyotes, timber rattlesnakes, and parasites that eat crops from the inside out. Do you know what you do with a rattlesnake when it bites you, Mr. Vance?"
There was a long pause on the line. "Mrs. Vance—"
"You don't negotiate with it," I snapped. "You break its neck. Tell my children I will see them in court tomorrow morning. And tell Marcus to bring a warm blanket. He's going to be spending a very long time on a concrete floor."
I slammed the receiver back onto the cradle with all the strength I had left.
Thomas let out a loud whistle, a massive grin breaking across his face. "God almighty, Eleanor. Your husband Henry would have stood up and cheered if he heard that."
"I'm done hiding, Thomas," I said, looking down at my bruised hands. "I spent five years letting them step on me because I was afraid of losing my children. But I realized something today."
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"What's that?"
"I lost my children years ago," I said softly. "The people sitting in that jail cell aren't my son and daughter. They're just predators wearing their faces."
