Chapter 12 - Eleanor's Desperation
The Monday morning after Camille’s dramatic midnight arrest at the warehouse, I was sitting in my father’s old leather chair in the CEO’s suite when my office door opened. My executive assistant looked shaken as she stepped inside.
"Ms. Sterling, your mother is here," she said quietly. "Security tried to stop her at the lobby, but she’s crying... she says she just wants five minutes to apologize."
I looked at the stack of legal briefings on my desk, then sighed. "Let her in. But keep security standing by the elevator."
Eleanor walked into the office looking ten years older than she had a week ago. Her designer hair was unstyled, her makeup was smudged around her eyes, and she wore a plain, off-the-rack coat. With her bank accounts frozen and her social circle entirely abandoning her to avoid the scandal, the illusion of her supremacy had evaporated.
She dropped into the chair across from my desk, burying her face in her hands as she began to sob—real, racking tears of absolute despair. "Sydney... they denied Camille bond this morning. The judge remanded her to federal custody until the trial. She’s sitting in a maximum-security cell... they took her clothes... they gave her an orange jumpsuit..."
"She was caught committing a federal freight robbery while on bail for a violent assault, Mom," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "What did you expect the judge to do? Give her a polite warning?"
Eleanor reached across the desk, trying to grab my working hand, but I pulled it back out of her reach. "You have to help her, Sydney! You're running the company now! You can tell the federal prosecutors that the money was a loan! You can tell them the warehouse transfer was authorized! If you don't save her, she'll spend the best years of her life in a federal penitentiary!"
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"And if I lie to the feds, I go to prison for obstruction of justice," I replied, leaning forward so she could see the cold determination in my eyes. "You spent thirty years treating me like an afterthought, Mom. You let Camille bully me, you let her steal from Dad while he was dying of cancer, and you tried to cover up violent physical assault to protect her social calendar."
I stood up and pointed toward the door. "Your daughter is going to prison, Mom. And if you ever step foot in this building again, I will have Harrison Grant file civil charges against you to recover every cent of stolen money Camille deposited into your checking accounts. Get out."
