Chapter 17 - Cleaning House
Two hours later,
the front door opened,
and Margaret and Paige trudged out onto the porch,
dragging heavy plastic garbage bags filled with their clothes and personal items.
The new truck parked in the driveway was already locked,
its keys surrendered to the bank representatives who had arrived to repossess it under the asset freeze.
They looked pathetic,
defeated by their own boundless greed and cruelty.
Margaret glared at me one last time as she stumbled down the steps toward a cheap rideshare vehicle waiting at the curb.
"You'll regret this,
Vance,"
she spat out bitterly through cracked lips.
"You'll realize how worthless she is once the cancer takes her,
and you'll have nobody left."
I didn't dignify her pathetic threat with a single word.
I simply watched as the rideshare doors closed and the vehicle pulled away down the suburban street,
carrying the parasites out of my life forever.
As the taillights faded into the evening dusk,
I turned back toward the house.
The air felt lighter.
The shadows felt dimmer.
I walked back inside,
grabbed a roll of heavy-duty trash bags from the kitchen,
and walked straight to the back of the house.
I opened the door to the damp storage room where Gwen had been imprisoned for months.
Old cardboard boxes,
dust,
and discarded packing materials littered the concrete floor.
With cold, systematic efficiency,
I began tearing down the boxes,
May you like
throwing out the misery,
and purging every last trace of my family's toxic presence from our home.
