Chapter 8 - Ethan’s Awakening
Within twenty minutes, two Chicago police officers arrived at the apartment in response to Ethan’s frantic 911 call. Ethan met them at the door, sweating through his expensive suit shirt, gesturing wildly toward the empty rooms. "Officers, you have to help me! My wife just abandoned the marital home, stole all our furniture, and locked me out of my own apartment! She’s having a psychotic break!"
Officer Ramirez, a seasoned veteran with tired eyes, stepped inside and walked slowly around the vacant living room, inspecting the locks and the pristine state of the walls. He turned back to Ethan, pulling out a small notepad. "Mr. Whitmore, who owns the title to this property?"
"We both do! We’re married!" Ethan lied smoothly, puffing out his chest. "It’s our marital residence!"
Officer Ramirez raised an eyebrow, pulling a tablet from his utility belt and tapping the screen to check public municipal records. After a brief moment of scrolling, he looked up at Ethan with a flat, unimpressed expression.
"According to the Cook County recorder of deeds, the property title is held exclusively in the maiden name of Emily Carter," Officer Ramirez stated clearly. "There is no record of your name on the deed, Mr. Whitmore. Furthermore, dispatch shows a domestic incident report filed three days ago from this exact address concerning severe scald injuries. Would you care to explain why you are attempting to claim ownership of someone else’s private property?"
Ethan’s face drained of all color. "She... she’s my wife! She can't just kick me out!"
"Actually, in the state of Illinois, pre-marital real estate remains separate property unless formally deeded over," Officer Ramirez said coldly. "And since you are not on the lease, title, or mortgage, and the legal owner has formally revoked your guest privileges, you are currently trespassing. Grab your personal bag and get out before I write you a citation."
"You can't do this!" Ethan yelled, his voice cracking. "My mother is Rebecca Whitmore! You don't know who you're messing with!"
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Officer Ramirez stepped forward, his hand resting firmly on his holster. "I know I’m looking at a trespasser who has ten seconds to leave before he spends the night in a holding cell. Move."
Defeated, humiliated, and trembling with impotent rage, Ethan grabbed his briefcase, snatched a single gym bag containing a change of clothes from the floor, and was forced out into the cold Chicago hallway as the heavy oak door clicked shut behind him.
