Part 19
The following Friday afternoon was cold and overcast,
a bitter wind blowing through the empty streets of the residential district.
A massive,
white moving truck was parked outside the gates of the old Whitmore family estate,
its rear doors open wide.
Two men in orange jumpsuits were busy loading the last pieces of covered furniture into the back,
their movements quick and completely unbothered.
Standing on the sidewalk outside the gate was Tessa,
clutching a single cardboard box containing her personal clothes and a few old books.
Her mother stood beside her,
wrapped in a cheap,
synthetic blanket she had taken from a motel,
her face looking old,
haggard,
and completely broken.
"Where are we supposed to go,
Arthur?"
Eleanor whined,
her voice cracked and filled with a desperate,
pathetic panic as her husband walked out of the empty house.
"The shelter downtown said they only have space for us for three nights!"
"We can’t live in a shelter!"
"I am Eleanor Whitmore!"
"Not anymore,
Eleanor,"
Arthur said flatly,
his voice hollow and completely empty as he locked the heavy front gates for the last time.
"We are just regular people now,
people who have to pay for their mistakes."
"I have rented a small,
one-bedroom basement apartment on the south side of the city."
"It’s all I could afford with the remaining allowance from the state's bankruptcy court."
"A basement apartment?"
Tessa shrieked,
her eyes wide with horror as she looked at her father.
"There are rats down there!"
"It’s dirty,
it’s dark,
and everyone will see us!"
"Then don't look,
Tessa,"
a cold,
familiar voice cut through the air,
making all three of them freeze in their tracks.
They turned around to see a sleek,
black town car idling at the curb,
its passenger window rolled down halfway.
Clara sat in the back seat,
her face framed by a beautiful silk scarf,
her eyes hidden behind her signature dark sunglasses.
"Clara!"
Eleanor gasped,
running toward the car with a sudden,
frantic hope lighting up her face.
"Please,
Clara,
look at us!"
"We have nothing left!"
"We are sleeping in a basement!"
"Forgive us,
please!"
Clara didn't roll the window down any further,
nor did she look directly at her mother’s desperate face.
"You wanted a lifestyle built on theft and betrayal,
mother,"
Clara said,
her voice carrying across the cold air with an icy,
unwavering precision.
"You thought my grief made me a convenient target."
"Now,
you can enjoy the lifestyle you actually earned."
"Marcus,"
she said quietly into the front seat.
"Drive."
The town car pulled away from the curb smoothly,
its tires splashing a puddle of dirty water over Tessa’s cheap shoes as it accelerated down the street.
They stood there in the cold rain,
watching the red taillights of her car disappear into the distance,
realizing that they were truly,
permanently alone.
The daughter they had discarded had left them behind in the shadows of their own greed,
May you like
stepping forward into a bright,
beautiful world where they could never follow.
