Chapter 6 - THE EVICTION NOTICE
Marcus Harper walked into the vault room with the casual confidence of a man who owned the building.
Which, I suddenly realized, he probably did.
Behind him stood Vice Principal Davis, looking nervous but obedient.
"Dad, what are you doing?" Olivia demanded, stepping in front of me.
"Protecting our family, Olivia," Harper said coldly. "Something you seem determined to ruin. Step aside."
"No," Olivia said, her voice shaking but her chin held high. "You stole Emma's father's company. You forged these documents!"
Harper laughed. It was a hollow, terrifying sound.
"I didn't forge anything," he said smoothly. "Arthur was drowning in debt. He sold me the rights to save his family. I was generous."
"He died the same day he signed this!" I yelled, stepping around Olivia. "You expect me to believe that's a coincidence?"
Harper’s eyes locked onto mine.
"I expect you to be smart, Emma," he said, his tone dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Like your mother."
He reached into his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a crisp, white envelope.
He tossed it onto the viewing table.
I looked down.
It was a formal legal document.
An eviction notice for our house.
"Your mother has been struggling to pay the mortgage for years," Harper said. "The bank was going to foreclose. I bought the debt this morning. Your house belongs to me now."
Tears stung my eyes.
"You're a monster," I whispered.
"I'm a businessman," Harper corrected. "Hand over the folder, Emma. If you do, I tear up the eviction notice. Your mother keeps her home. You finish your senior year. We pretend this never happened."
He looked at Davis.
"If you don't," Harper continued, "Mr. Davis will officially expel you tomorrow for stealing school property. Your mother will be homeless by Friday. And good luck fighting a billionaire in court with no money."
I looked at the folder in my hands.
The proof of my father's genius. The proof of his murder.
Then I looked at the eviction notice.
My mother worked herself to the bone for that house. If we lost it, she would have nothing.
I slowly closed the manila folder.
"Emma, no!" Olivia pleaded.
"I have to," I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek.
I pushed the folder across the table toward Mr. Harper.
He smiled, a triumphant, predatory grin.
He picked up the folder, tucked it under his arm, and left the eviction notice on the table.
"A wise choice," Harper said. "Come along, Olivia. We're going home."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," Olivia spat.
Harper’s face hardened. "You will get in the car, or I call the clinic and cancel Mia's treatments today."
Olivia broke.
Her shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her entirely.
She looked at me, a silent apology in her eyes, and followed her father out of the vault room.
Davis lingered for a second.
He looked at me, a smug expression on his face.
"You should have just kept your head down, Emma," Davis sneered.
He turned to leave.
But as he turned, his suit jacket snagged on the edge of the heavy metal viewing table.
Something fell out of his pocket and clattered onto the stone floor.
He didn't notice. The vault door closed heavily behind him.
I walked over to where he had been standing.
May you like
I looked down.
It was my father's silver pocket watch.
