Chapter 8 - The Foreclosure
Because of the deposition, the judge ruled in our favor for the civil suit in record time.
My parents were ordered to pay $2.5 million in punitive and compensatory damages. Money they absolutely did not have.
The seizure of assets was swift and brutal. The state auctioned off their luxury cars, seized Eleanor's jewelry, and froze the remainder of Arthur's meager pension.
But the final blow was the house.
Because they couldn't pay the judgment, the court ordered the liquidation of their primary residence. The very house where they had locked my daughter out in the cold.
On a crisp Tuesday afternoon, I drove out to Crestwood. I parked across the street and watched.
Movers were hauling Eleanor’s antique furniture out onto the lawn. Arthur stood on the sidewalk, looking like a broken, hollow shell of a man. Eleanor was sobbing hysterically as a real estate agent hammered a sign into the manicured front lawn.
It was a stark white sign with bright red letters. SOLD.
May you like
I rolled down my window just as Eleanor looked up and saw my car. Our eyes met. She looked at me with a desperate, pleading expression—the look of a woman who finally realized she had destroyed her own life.
I just looked at her. I didn't smile. I didn't gloat. I rolled the window back up and drove away, leaving her standing exactly where my daughter had stood.
