Chapter 13 - The Foreclosure Auction at NoonThe 5:30 p.m. State Attorney General’s final audit had just arrived via certified email at Juniper & Rose Design.
While Marcus was busy planting lavender, I sat on the porch rocking chair and carefully downloaded the ninety-two-page file. The audit wasn't just about my annulment. It was a formal notification of the civil and criminal seizure of all Mercer Family assets under the state’s Asset Forfeiture Act.
That afternoon, at precisely twelve o'clock noon, a local foreclosure auction company set up a portable microphone and a small folding table on the sidewalk outside 14 Oak Street—Norma’s spotless suburban castle.
Seven prospective buyers, wearing tailored suits and holding checkbooks, gathered near the stone mailbox. State marshals had been posted at the front door all morning, preventing Daniel and Norma from removing so much as a single potted plant or a silver-bob wig from the property.
At twelve-fifteen, the auctioneer slammed his gavel down.
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A regional property liquidator bought the four-bedroom, white-marble Mercer estate for 380,000 dollars—less than half of its true market value, leaving exactly zero equity to cover Norma’s outstanding personal loan liabilities.
Daniel stood behind the police perimeter across the street, wearing a rumpled work shirt, his face pale and hollow, watching the only status symbols he had traded his marriage for sold at public liquidation. He hadn't just lost a bailout. He had lost his inheritance, his dignity, and any last connection to the name Harrison Mercer had given him.
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