Chapter 3 - The Morning of the DefenseBy Thursday morning, my parents believed they had successfully crushed my ambitions.
When they woke up and found my bedroom completely empty, my father assumed I had fled the city in shame like a coward. He spent the morning calling our extended family, weaving a elaborate story about how I had suffered a "mental breakdown," destroyed my own computer in a fit of rage, and abandoned the family home after stealing three thousand dollars from his wallet.
“She’s completely lost her mind,” Dad told my Aunt Clara over the phone, pacing around the living room in his bathrobe. “We tried everything to help her, Clara. We gave her a roof over her head for six years! And this is how she repays us? By running away like a crazy person!”
Mom sat at the kitchen table, casually browsing luxury cruise websites on her tablet. “Honestly, Richard, it’s a relief. Without her dragging us down, we can finally close on the refinance deal this afternoon.”
At 10:00 a.m., their doorbell rang.
Dad walked to the front door expecting a delivery package. Instead, when he opened it, he was greeted by two high-ranking university officials accompanied by two uniform police officers from the Chicago Police Department.
The lead official, Vice Chancellor Harold Finch, adjusted his spectacles and looked at my father with icy condescension.
“Richard Miller?” Vice Chancellor Finch asked.
“Yeah? What’s this about?” Dad asked, frowning defensively. “If this is about Maya, she doesn't live here anymore. She had a psychological episode last night and—”
“Mr. Miller,” Finch interrupted smoothly, pulling a formal gold-embossed letter from his leather briefcase. “I am here on behalf of the Board of Regents of the University of Chicago. You and your wife, Eleanor Miller, are formally summoned to attend Miss Maya Miller’s doctoral dissertation defense at 1:00 p.m. today in Auditorium 3B.”
Dad burst into a loud, mocking laugh. “A thesis defense?! Are you kidding me? She doesn't have a thesis! I smashed her computer to pieces last night!”
The two police officers shifted slightly, their hands resting near their belts.
“Mr. Miller,” the lead officer said, his voice flat and stern. “This is a court-ordered subpoena issued by the Federal District Court. You are required to attend as named material witnesses in an ongoing federal investigation. If you refuse to comply, we will place you under arrest immediately.”
Mom froze in the kitchen, her tablet slipping from her hands and clattering onto the floor.
Dad’s laughter died instantly in his throat. “Subpoena? Federal investigation? What the hell are you talking about?!”
“1:00 p.m., Auditorium 3B,” Vice Chancellor Finch said, turning on his heel. “Do not be late, Mr. Miller. The Board of Regents does not like to be kept waiting.”
As the officers and university officials walked down the driveway, Dad stood in the open doorway, his chest heaving with sudden, unadulterated panic. He turned to Mom, whose face had gone completely white.
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“What did she do, Richard?” Mom whimpered, her voice trembling violently. “What did she do?!”
“Shut up!” Dad yelled, grabbing his jacket off the couch with trembling hands. “It’s a bluff! She’s trying to scare us! We’re going down there and we’re going to show everyone what a lying, crazy bitch she really is!”
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