Chapter 5 - THE CONFRONTATION
Wednesday arrived with heavy, gray skies. I walked into the apartment building with my mother by my side, her chin held high. We weren't alone. Waiting in the lobby was David, and standing quietly near the elevator were two plainclothes police officers. Brandon had an outstanding warrant for assault based on my mother's sworn statement and the photographic evidence of her injuries we had submitted.
I rode the elevator up to the penthouse floor, my heart steady. I opened the door.
Brandon was sitting at the dining table, dressed in a sharp suit, sipping coffee. He looked up, his expression hardening when he saw my mother.
“I told you she wasn’t welcome here,” he snapped.
“This is still my apartment, Brandon,” I said calmly, stepping into the room.
He scoffed, sliding a thick stack of papers across the table. “Sign these, Sarah. You get the car, I get the apartment. We split whatever’s left in checking. It’s more than fair. If you don't sign, I'll take you to court and bleed you dry with legal fees.”
I picked up the pen, twirling it between my fingers. “Divide the assets? You mean the checking account that has four hundred dollars in it? Or do you mean the Cayman Islands account you and Chloe set up to hide our life savings?”
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Brandon froze. The color instantly drained from his face. The smug, arrogant mask slipped, revealing the terrified coward underneath. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about Santorini, Brandon. I’m talking about the burner phone taped under your desk.” I tossed the photographs of his text messages onto the table. They scattered like falling leaves.
