Chapter 2: The Red Cart of Reckoning
Lucas did not reach for an overnight duffle. He walked straight to the utility alcove beneath the stairs and wheeled out a heavy, commercial-grade red steel utility cart he had purchased from a liquidating warehouse supply depot.
""Lucas, what are you doing?"" Thomas barked from the stairs, his brow furrowing as he descended two steps. ""Don't throw a childish tantrum because you don't like the family budget.""
Lucas didn't answer.
He opened a stack of flat-pack moving boxes from the corner, snapping them into shape with practiced, efficient motions.
He went to the linen press, stripped the Egyptian cotton sheets, down pillows, and wool duvets from the bed, and dropped them into the boxes. He unhooked the high-efficiency Dyson air purifier from the corner—the one he had bought when his father’s seasonal asthma flared up two winters ago.
He unbolted the wall-mounted fifty-five-inch OLED monitor he used for structural drafting, carefully placing it into its foam-padded flight case.
""Lucas, that TV belongs to the house!"" Janice cried, hurrying down the steps, her mug rattling in its saucer. ""We watch the Sunday football games down here!""
Lucas pulled a laminated manila folder from his leather satchel and withdrew a thick stack of thermal receipts, flipping through them with cold, mechanical precision.
""OLED Display: Best Buy Polaris, purchased by Lucas Vance, May 14, 2024,"" Lucas read aloud. ""Sectional Sofa: Arhaus Furniture, delivered to Lucas Vance, October 2023. Smart Thermostat Hub, Bosch Dehumidifier, Walnut Side Tables, LED Track Lighting, French Press, Microwave.""
He looked up, his dark brown eyes burning with a calm, terrifying finality.
""I’m taking everything I paid for.""
Chloe rushed forward, her hands waving frantically. ""You can't just strip the room bare! Where am I supposed to put my clients? You're being spiteful!""
Lucas grabbed a box filled with his technical drafting books, brass compass sets, and four months of emergency reserve cash in bank envelopes, hoisting it into the red cart with a heavy, echoing *thump*.
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He looked his sister dead in the eyes. ""Spite is charging your brother market rent for a concrete floor after he paid off your delinquent car lease last Christmas. This isn't spite, Chloe. This is a property settlement.""
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