Chapter 7 - The Arrest
While Elena and Lily spent the next three days recovering under the watchful eyes of the hospital staff, the police executed a flawless, sweeping raid on my extended family.
My mother had been sitting in a holding cell, confidently demanding her one phone call, fully believing she could manipulate her way out of the situation.
According to Detective Ramirez, Patricia had tried to play the innocent, concerned grandmother right up until they slammed a laptop on the interrogation table and hit play.
The moment Patricia saw the high-definition footage of herself grinding pills into Elena's tea, she completely stopped talking.
She demanded a lawyer, but the damage was already permanently done.
Meanwhile, the police tracked down my cousin Leo at a cheap motel near the local casino, where he was attempting to sell my vintage watches to a pawn broker.
They kicked the motel door off its hinges, catching him red-handed with a briefcase full of my stolen property and a pocketful of illegal narcotics.
The rest of the family—Uncle Arthur, Aunt Susan, and the others who had happily feasted on my dime—were not spared from the fallout.
The detectives paid a visit to each of their homes, aggressively questioning them about their involvement in my mother's grand larceny ring.
When my relatives realized that Patricia's stolen funds had officially dried up and she was facing decades in prison, they instantly turned on her like starved wolves.
Aunt Susan immediately offered to testify against Patricia, claiming she had no idea the money was stolen and that she was a victim of Patricia's manipulation.
Uncle Arthur threw Leo under the bus, telling the police exactly which offshore accounts Leo had been using to hide the wire transfers.
The "tight-knit family" that had laughed at my wife's suffering shattered into a million pieces the second their own freedom was threatened.
On Wednesday morning, my phone rang while I was packing Elena's bags for her hospital discharge.
It was an unknown number, but I answered it anyway, pressing the phone to my ear.
"Marcus, please, you have to help me," a frantic, desperate voice begged on the other end of the line.
It was Aunt Susan.
"They seized my bank accounts because they traced your mother's stolen money to my house down payment!" she wailed, crying hysterically.
"You have to tell the police I didn't know, Marcus, I'm going to lose my home!"
I stared out the hospital window, watching the Seattle rain wash the streets clean below.
"Susan, do you remember what you said at my daughter's birthday party?" I asked, my voice chillingly calm.
Silence fell over the line, punctuated only by her rapid, panicked breathing.
"You laughed and called my wife a princess while she was starving in the kitchen with a sick baby," I reminded her coldly.
"You happily drank my scotch and ate my food while my mother tortured the woman I love."
"I am not going to help you, Susan. I hope you lose the house, and I hope you rot."
I hung up the phone and permanently blocked her number, along with every other contact associated with my blood relatives.
They were dead to me now.
I zipped up Elena's overnight bag, slung it over my shoulder, and walked over to the hospital bed where she was gently rocking Lily.
She looked up at me, her eyes clear and filled with a quiet, resilient strength I hadn't seen in over a year.
"Are we finally going home?" she asked softly.
May you like
"Yes," I smiled, offering her my hand.
"And for the first time since we moved in, it’s going to be just the three of us."
