Chapter 4 - The Notice to Quit
At exactly two o’clock that afternoon, a sharp, authoritative knock echoed through the front hallway of my house. I was watching the live feed from my hospital bed, with Marcus sitting in the visitor’s chair beside me, reviewing my latest medical charts while typing rapidly on his laptop.
On the screen, Julian jogged to the front door, expecting a delivery or perhaps a returning neighbor. Instead, he opened the heavy oak door to reveal a tall, burly man in a sharp grey suit holding a thick clipboard and a sealed manila envelope. Accompanying the man were two uniformed officers from the local precinct, their hands resting neutrally near their utility belts.
“Are you Julian Vance?” the man in the grey suit asked, his voice carrying clearly through the porch microphone.
“Yeah, that’s me. What’s going on? Who called the cops?” Julian stammered, taking an instinctive step backward into the foyer. Eleanor appeared at the top of the staircase, clutching the banister, her face pale with dread.
“I am a licensed process server acting on behalf of the legal owner of this property, Eleanor Nora Vance, and her legal counsel, Vance & Associates,” the man said smoothly. He thrust the thick manila envelope directly into Julian’s chest. “You have been formally served with an Emergency Order of Protection and an immediate Notice to Vacate. Pursuant to Judge Harrison’s morning ruling regarding domestic assault against a vulnerable individual, you and your mother, Eleanor Vance, have exactly seventy-two hours to remove your personal effects and vacate these premises.”
Julian stared at the envelope as if it were a venomous snake. “Seventy-two hours? You can’t evict me from my own home! My wife is having a mental breakdown! This is illegal!”
One of the police officers stepped forward, his expression carved from stone. “Mr. Vance, I suggest you lower your voice and read the order signed by the judge. The property is legally owned by an independent trust. You have no legal tenancy or ownership claim. Furthermore, due to the physical assault reported last night and verified by medical staff at St. Jude’s Hospital, if you attempt to contact your wife, approach her medical facility, or cause any damage to the fixtures of this residence during your departure, you will be arrested immediately for violating a federal restraining order.”
Eleanor let out a high-pitched, theatrical wail from the stairs, collapsing onto the carpeted steps as if her legs had given out. “Julian! My God, she’s throwing us into the street! Call the mayor! Call someone!”
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Julian didn't call anyone. He stood frozen in the open doorway, the cold autumn wind blowing rain onto his Italian leather shoes, his entire world dismantling before the eyes of his curious, peering neighbors.
In the hospital room, Marcus closed his laptop with a satisfying click. “Step one complete, Nora. Now, let’s talk about his mistress.”
