Chapter 5 - The Eviction Notice
The sudden crackle of the static-heavy radio strapped to the lead man’s belt startled everyone in the room. A dispatcher’s voice filtered through the tiny speaker, tinny and distorted, yet entirely clear in its directive.
Team leader, we have a complication at the perimeter. Local law enforcement is pulling into the driveway in response to a silent alarm.
The two men in suits exchanged a brief, calculating glance. The lead man closed his leather folder with a sharp snap that echoed loudly in the tense living room. He adjusted his cuffs, his expression remaining completely impassive despite the new variable.
"It appears your brother’s backup plan was more comprehensive than we anticipated," the lead man said smoothly, looking directly at Clara. "However, the asset transfer is already complete. The legalities are airtight. We will allow twenty-four hours for voluntary vacation of the premises before our enforcement division returns to change the locks."
"You can't just throw us out into the street!" Evelyn cried out, stepping forward with a fierce, maternal dignity that defied her frail state. "This house has been in my family for forty years! I built these walls with my late husband!"
"Take it up with the courts, madam," the second man replied coldly, turning on his heel toward the stairs. "Your son traded your memories for a roll of the dice."
Without another word, the two men descended the staircase, their heavy footsteps fading quickly as the front door downstairs opened and closed with a dull thud. Moments later, the heavy thrum of a high-end luxury vehicle engine revved in the driveway, followed by the squeal of tires peeling away just as blue and red flashing lights began to paint the living room walls in dancing hues.
Clara rushed to the window, peering down through the blinds to see a local police cruiser pulling up behind an unmarked black sedan. She let out a long, shuddering breath and turned back to face the room. Evelyn was sitting heavily on the sofa now, staring blankly at the spot where her son cowered.
"Mark," Clara said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy calmness. "Get up."
"I didn't know they were going to take the house," Mark whispered defensively, refusing to look up. "I thought I could win it back before they foreclosed."
"You didn't think at all," Clara retorted, walking over to him and grabbing him by the collar of his beige t-shirt, hauling him up to his feet with surprising strength. "You traded everything we had for a pipe dream."
The front doorbell rang insistently, cutting off whatever excuse Mark was about to formulate. Evelyn didn't move, her eyes fixed on the floor as the officers downstairs called out, demanding someone answer the door.
May you like
Clara let go of Mark, smoothed down her grey tank top, and walked toward the stairs. But before she reached the landing, her phone buzzed with an unexpected text message from an unknown number containing a single address across town and three words.
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