Chapter 6 - THE COLLAPSE OF PATRICIA
When Patricia Brooks arrived at our townhouse thirty minutes later, she didn't look like the proud, triumphant matriarch who had tapped her glass at the dinner table the night before.
She looked twenty years older. Her expensive silk blouse was wrinkled, her eyes were bloodshot, and her hands shook as she stepped through the front door.
I had invited her over. Daniel sat on the couch in the living room, his head in his hands, completely broken.
"Emma... what is going on?" Patricia asked, her voice hovering on the edge of panic. "You said on the phone that there was something I needed to see?"
I didn't offer her tea. I didn't invite her to sit down.
I walked over to the dining table, picked up the Walgreens receipt, the box of fake hormone powder I had dragged out from Daniel’s gym bag, and the paper copy of my blood test results from the clinic.
I laid them all out on the glass coffee table in front of her.
"Read them," I said neutrally.
Patricia sat down stiffly on the edge of the armchair. She picked up the papers one by one. She read the clinic report. She read the receipt for the "Positive Proof" kit.
It took her two full minutes to process what she was looking at.
When she finally put the papers down, she looked at her son.
"Daniel..." Patricia’s voice was barely a whisper. "What is this?"
Daniel didn't look up. He kept his face buried in his palms.
"Your son faked a pregnancy, Patricia," I said, standing near the window with my arms crossed over my chest. "He bought synthetic hormones, spiked a test stick, and sent you a picture on Tuesday night so you would list him as an expectant father on the Brooks Family Trust allocation form before Friday's deadline."
Patricia gasped. A sharp, terrible sound that cut through the quiet room.
"You... you lied to me?" Patricia stammered, staring at her son in absolute disbelief. "You lied about a baby? To your own mother?"
"Mom, I was going under!" Daniel sobbed, finally lifting his head. "The business was failing! You were going to give my share of Grandfather's trust to Mark and Maya! I worked just as hard as them! It wasn't fair that I was being penalized just because Emma and I hadn't had kids yet!"
"Not fair?!" Patricia suddenly stood up, her face flushing bright red with pure, unadulterated fury. "You commited trust fraud, Daniel! You used your wife's name to steal from your own family's foundation!"
"You were the one who pushed me!" Daniel yelled back, standing up to face her, his composure snapping. "For three years! Every single holiday! 'When am I getting a grandbaby, Daniel? Why is Emma prioritizing her career over my family, Daniel?' You made me feel like an absolute failure every time I walked into your house without a child!"
The accusation hit the room like a bomb.
Patricia took a step back, looking as if she had been slapped across the face. She turned her tear-filled eyes toward me.
"Emma..." Patricia breathed, her voice trembling. "I... I swear to God I didn't know. I thought he was telling the truth. I bought those tiny socks because I was so happy..."
"I know you didn't know, Patricia," I said calmly. "You were just a pawn in his game. Just like I was."
"What are you going to do?" Patricia asked, looking between the two of us with sheer terror. "If the trust executors find out about this, Daniel could face criminal fraud charges. The family will be destroyed."
I walked over to the front door and pulled it wide open.
"I don't care what happens to the trust, Patricia," I said, looking her dead in the eye. "And I don't care what happens to Daniel's company. But as of right now, both of you are going to leave my house."
"Emma, please!" Daniel stepped toward me. "Don't do this!"
"If you are not out of this house in ten minutes, Daniel," I said, my voice as hard as flint, "I am filing a formal police report for identity fraud and harassment. Pack a bag."
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Daniel looked at me, seeing the absolute, icy finality in my eyes. He realized there were no more lies left to tell, no more excuses to make, and no way back.
Without another word, he walked upstairs to pack his things.
