Chapter 4: The Civil Standby
“Mom, please!”
Daniel didn’t just back up; he completely, physically collapsed. He dropped to his knees on the cold, hard concrete floor of the basement. Genuine, ugly tears of profound humiliation and absolute terror spilled down his cheeks. The man who had just threatened to physically assault me was now weeping, his hands clasped together in a pathetic, desperate gesture of surrender.
“We were just overwhelmed, Mom! I swear to God!” Daniel sobbed, his voice cracking into a wretched, high-pitched wail. “We didn’t mean any of it! The money just made us crazy for a minute! Please, don’t do this! We can buy a bigger house! We can buy a mansion! You can have the entire master suite! You never have to live in the basement again! We’ll hire maids!”
Elise was hyperventilating against the wall, her hands covering her face, unable to comprehend the spectacular, catastrophic implosion of her billionaire fantasy. She had tasted the caviar, and now she was choking on the ash.
I looked down at the weeping, pathetic man kneeling before me. I felt no maternal instinct to comfort him. I felt no urge to forgive. The realization that he was only begging because I held the winning ticket, and not because he felt genuine remorse for throwing my life into a trash bag, was the final, liberating truth I needed.
I turned away from him.
I walked over to the small, worn suitcase where Elise had shoved my husband’s framed photograph. I carefully placed my remaining sweaters and blouses inside, folding them neatly. I zipped the suitcase shut. The sharp, metallic zipping sound was loud and final in the echoing basement.
