Chapter 5 - Margaret's Mistake
The following Tuesday, exactly one week after my leg was broken, a black town car idled outside my father's gates.
The security guard called the house, announcing that Margaret Vance was demanding to see her granddaughter.
My father wanted to have her arrested for trespassing, but Veronica simply smiled and told the guards to let her in.
"Let her hang herself," the lawyer advised, setting up a small, discreet digital recorder on the coffee table.
Margaret walked into the grand living room wearing a black mourning dress, looking like a tragic, misunderstood victim.
She refused to look at my wheelchair, keeping her eyes fixed on my face with a mixture of disgust and panic.
"Sarah, darling, this has all gotten entirely out of hand," Margaret began, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.
"David is incredibly sorry for the tragic accident that happened in the kitchen."
I stared at her in total silence, letting the weight of her horrible lies hang in the air.
"He is willing to drop the custody lawsuit and give you full physical rights to Emma," she offered quickly.
"All you have to do is sign this simple NDA, drop the criminal charges for assault, and release the frozen funds."
She pulled a crumpled legal document from her designer purse and threw it onto the table.
"If you don't do this, Sarah, I promise you, I will testify that you are an unfit, alcoholic mother," she threatened smoothly.
"I will tell the judge that Emma called the police because you were drunk and attacking my son."
I looked down at the tiny blinking red light on the digital recorder hidden behind a stack of magazines.
"You would commit perjury in a court of law to protect a man who beats women?" I asked clearly, ensuring the microphone picked it up.
"I will do whatever it takes to protect my son's career and my family's money," Margaret sneered arrogantly.
"You are nothing but a fragile little checkbook, Sarah, and you are completely out of your depth."
Veronica stepped out from the shadows of the adjacent library, holding a freshly printed piece of paper.
"Actually, Mrs. Vance, she is extremely well-represented," Veronica purred, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"And you have just confessed to extortion, witness tampering, and conspiracy on a recorded device."
Margaret’s face drained of all color, her expensive foundation suddenly looking like a cheap mask.
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"Get out of my house," my father boomed from the doorway, "before I have the police remove you in handcuffs too."
Margaret practically ran for the door, leaving her purse and the extortion papers behind on the table.
