Chapter 4 - The Freeze
The legal office of Arthur Campbell smelled of old parchment, pipe tobacco, and decades of bitter family feuds. Arthur had gone to law school with Walter, had been our best man forty-two years ago, and had watched Derek grow from a boy scraping his knees on gravel into a thirty-eight-year-old monster wearing bespoke Italian suits.
Arthur slid a thick manila folder across his desk toward me.
"I've been waiting for this day for six years, Eleanor," Arthur said bluntly, leaning back in his tall swivel chair. "Walter wanted to rewrite this the year before he passed, but you talked him out of it. You insisted Derek would mature once he had children."
"I was a fool," I confessed, my hands folded tightly over my purse. "I thought love could cure entitlement. I didn't realize entitlement feeds on love until there's nothing left but gristle and bone."
"Well, the law doesn't feed on love. It feeds on ink," Arthur said, tapping the folder. "When Walter established the trust deed for Derek’s home in Brentwood, he didn't give the title to Derek. He gave Derek a revocable life tenancy contingent upon Derek maintaining financial good standing and paying the property taxes. Do you know who pays the property taxes, Eleanor?"
"The trust," Abby whispered, her eyes widening.
"Exactly," Arthur replied. "The trust pays the forty-two thousand dollars in county and city taxes every November. Without the trust’s authorization, Derek is in technical default of the tenancy agreement. Furthermore, the land Derek’s warehouse sits on—the headquarters for his logistics firm—is owned by Walter’s estate. Derek leases it for one single dollar a year."
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, picturing my son's arrogant smirk when he had dismissed me over the phone just hours ago, telling me I was an old woman clinging to the past. He truly believed he had built an empire. He had forgotten who owned the dirt beneath his feet.
"Can he be evicted?" I asked, my voice steady.
"From the house? Within forty-five days under a standard lease violation notice," Arthur stated clearly. "From the commercial lot? Thirty days. But Eleanor, consider the children. Jake and Lily live in that house."
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"I am considering them," I said fiercely, opening my eyes. "Gina is currently smashing china plates against the kitchen wall while those babies hide in a closet with headphones on. Derek is drinking bourbon at ten in the morning to cope with his wounded pride. That home is no longer safe. Arthur, I want the eviction notices drafted today. But do not serve them yet. First, I want Derek to realize what life looks like without my signature."
Arthur offered a thin, grim smile. "Consider the safety switch removed, Eleanor."
