Chapter 17 - The Mother's Fall
Camille’s formal statement accusing her mother of being the primary mastermind behind the embezzlement scheme was the final nail in Eleanor’s coffin. Within twenty-four hours of the proffer session, federal marshals arrived at the rented apartment Eleanor had been hiding in since her Hamptons estate was seized.
They didn't give her time to put on her makeup or call her high-society friends. She was arrested in her bathrobe, led out in handcuffs past a swarm of local paparazzi who had been tipped off by court billing filings.
Two days later, mother and daughter sat at opposite ends of the federal defense table during their joint arraignment hearing, refusing to even look at each other.
Eleanor’s newly appointed public defender—since all her private assets were legally impounded by the fraud investigation—stood up to enter a plea of not guilty, but his voice lacked any conviction. The prosecution had already disclosed their witness list for the upcoming trial, and sitting right at the top of the list were Marcus Vance, Harrison Grant, and myself.
After the arraignment concluded, I walked out of the courtroom into the wide marble hallway of the federal building. I was just reaching for the elevator button when a frantic voice called my name.
"Sydney! Sydney, please stop!"
I turned around to see Eleanor shuffling toward me in her prison-issued sneakers, escorted by a female U.S. Marshal who kept a firm grip on her arm. Eleanor’s eyes were bloodshot, her face lined with exhaustion and terror.
"Sydney, you have to tell them Camille is lying!" Eleanor wept, reaching out with her shackled hands toward my coat before the Marshal pulled her back. "She’s telling the prosecutors that I planned the whole thing! She’s trying to send me to prison for the rest of my life to shave five years off her own sentence!"
"And isn't that exactly what you taught her to do, Mom?" I asked quietly, my voice echoing off the cold marble walls. "You spent thirty years teaching Camille that other people only exist to be used or discarded to protect her own interests. You taught her that lying is acceptable as long as you don't get caught."
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I looked at her with pity—not anger, just deep, sorrowful pity. "She learned from the master, Mom. Now you get to experience what it feels like to be the one left screaming on the floor."
I stepped into the elevator, the brass doors sliding shut on my mother’s weeping face, cutting her out of my life forever.
