Chapter 7 - The Unexpected AllyTwo weeks later, the local news broke the story: “Prominent Charlotte Real Estate Exec Robert Brooks Arrested Amid Massive Fraud and Embezzlement Probe.”
The headlines were everywhere. Social media pages in Charlotte were buzzing with gossip. The picture of my father being led out of his office in handcuffs, his face pale and contorted with shock, was plastered across every local news feed.
I was sitting on my couch, sipping black coffee, watching the broadcast when someone knocked loudly on my apartment door.
I frowned, walking slowly to the door and peering through the peephole.
Standing outside was Emily.
Her hair was unbrushed, her face bare and san makeup, her eyes red and puffy. She looked pathetic.
I unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to block her path, leaning against the frame with my arms crossed.
Emily stared at me, her chest heaving. "Sarah! You did this! Mom is in jail, Dad's business is ruined, the bank accounts are frozen, and my wedding venue just canceled because our deposit bounced! What is wrong with you?!"
"What's wrong with me?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft. "Emily, your mother murdered my child. Our child—my baby—is dead. And you're crying about a wedding venue?"
Emily flinched, stepping back a half-inch, but her selfish entitlement quickly flared back up. "It was an accident! Mom didn't mean to hit you that hard! She just wanted you to give me the money so my life wouldn't be ruined! You've always been jealous of me because I'm the pretty one, the one everyone loves!"
I stared at her, feeling a wave of profound pity mixed with absolute contempt. She truly believed her existence excused any atrocity.
"Listen to me very carefully, Emily," I whispered, stepping closer until she had to look up into my eyes. "Mom is facing ten to fifteen years for aggravated assault and manslaughter charges regarding the stress-induced loss. Dad is looking at federal prison for twenty counts of identity theft and wire fraud—using my social security number to fund your lifestyle. And you? Every single dollar you possess, every gift, every dress, every car—it’s all tied to stolen funds. The authorities are seizing all of it."
Emily's face drained of all color. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "No... no, you're lying. Dad wouldn't—you can't do this to us! We're sisters!"
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"We were never sisters," I said coldly. "I was your servant. And now, your contract has expired."
I shut the door right in her face, locking it with a heavy, satisfying click.
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