Chapter 14 - A Room with a View
The suite at the Savoy overlooked the Thames, the dark water reflecting the luminous golden glow of the London Eye and the distant towers of Parliament. A roaring fire crackled in the hearth, scenting the room with rich cedar and cedarwood.
Emma had spent the first thirty minutes exploring every corner of the suite, marveling at the clawfoot tub, the velvet curtains that opened with the touch of a button, and the complimentary silver tray loaded with fresh shortbread and strawberry jam.
"Daddy, are we rich now?" she asked, sitting cross-legged on the massive four-poster bed, nibbling on a biscuit.
I pulled a chair over and sat facing her. "No, Emma. We aren't rich. But we are free."
She tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. "Free like birds?"
"Free like people who don't have to carry things that don't belong to them," I said softly. "You know how sometimes, Grandma would ask me to carry all the heavy folding tables, the ice chests, and the bags of groceries while everyone else sat inside watching TV?"
Emma nodded solemnly. "Aunt Jessica never carried anything. She said her nails were too pretty."
A wry chuckle escaped my lips. "Exactly. For a long time, Daddy thought that if he carried enough heavy things, Grandma and Grandpa would finally look at him and say, 'We're proud of you, David.' But some people, Emma... some people will let you carry an entire mountain on your back until you collapse, and then they'll complain that you didn't bring them a glass of water while you were falling."
Emma reached out, placing her small, warm hand over my knuckles. "I'm proud of you, Daddy. You carried my purple suitcase all the way up the stairs."
A sudden, sharp lump formed in my throat. I squeezed her hand, swallowing hard against the sudden prick of tears. "Thank you, sweetheart. That’s the only thing I ever needed to hear."
My laptop sat on the mahogany desk by the window, its screen quietly flashing with a notification. While Emma turned back to her plate of shortbread, humming a tune from a movie, I stepped over to the desk and opened the message.
It was from Arthur Vance.
*Subject: Asset Verification & Enforcement Update*
*David,*
*I received two voicemails from your mother this afternoon, both highly erratic and verbally abusive. She claimed you had 'stolen forty-two thousand dollars belonging to the family estate.' I took the liberty of faxing over the original credit card statements proving the cruise was booked under your name, paid with your primary corporate card, and refunded strictly to the originating account.*
*I also contacted the detective assigned to Jessica’s case in your home county. It appears Jessica opened three separate lines of credit in your parents' names using forged notarized signatures, dating back fourteen months. The total liability exceeds $210,000, not including the second mortgage on their home which default notices were issued for last Thursday.*
*They have no legal standing against you. However, you should be aware: your father contacted a local legal aid clinic attempting to claim filial support under state statute. Given your formal change of domicile and residency, that claim is legally dead on arrival. Enjoy your time with your daughter. You are completely clear.*
I closed the laptop screen slowly. Two hundred and ten thousand dollars.
May you like
My mother had known. Deep down, she had always known Jessica was reckless, toxic, and deceitful. But in her warped mind, as long as David was around to clean up the shattered glass, Jessica could throw all the stones she wanted. They had treated me like an insurance policy, right up until the moment I canceled the coverage.
***
