Meredith stepped forward with a composed expression and handed him a heavy manila folder. “Mr. Preston Miller, you are being served with a petition for divorce, an emergency order for exclusive occupancy of this residence, and a criminal complaint for financial fraud.”
Beatrice let out a high-pitched, hysterical laugh. “You can’t kick us out of our own family home!”
Meredith didn’t even flinch as she adjusted her glasses. “Precisely because this is not, and has never been, your home, we absolutely can.”
The silence that followed was so heavy that Chloe actually took off her designer shades to see if we were joking. On Preston’s face, the anger slowly drained away, replaced by a cold, hollow look of pure panic.
PART 2
Preston took several long seconds to find his voice, glancing at the foyer walls and then at his mother as if he expected the architecture itself to defend him. “This is absurd, Julianne; tell these people to stop this nonsense right now.”
“It isn’t nonsense, Preston; it is the inevitable consequence of you treating my life like your personal ATM,” I replied.