Chapter 7 - The Confrontation
By Monday morning, the storm had escalated into a Category 5 hurricane.
When I drove down to my office building in the financial district, I expected them to try and contact me. I didn't, however, expect my father and my sister to be waiting in the parking garage.
As I pulled my SUV into my designated parking space, I saw two figures step out from behind a concrete pillar. My father was wearing an unpressed suit, his tie crooked, deep purple bags hanging beneath his bloodshot eyes. Tessa looked even worse; her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, her face pale, devoid of the glamorous makeup she usually wore like armor.
I parked the car, grabbed my briefcase, and stepped out into the chilly morning air. I locked the doors behind me and stood tall, looking at them with cool indifference.
"You shouldn't be here," I said calmly. "All communications are supposed to go through Mr. Vance's office."
"June, stop this madness!" Tessa shrieked, taking a step toward me, her voice trembling with hysteria. "The builder called Mark at six this morning! He canceled our build contract! He's keeping our $150,000 deposit because of the legal dispute on the land title! Do you have any idea what you've done to us?!"
"I didn't do anything to you, Tessa," I replied, holding my briefcase firmly at my side. "Dad did."
Tessa whipped her head around to look at our father, her eyes wide with betrayal. "Dad! What is she talking about?! You told me you owned that land free and clear! You told me Grandfather gave it to you!"
My father looked like a man standing on the trapdoor of a gallows. He couldn't meet his eldest daughter's eyes.
"June..." my father began, his voice raspy and broken, taking a desperate step toward me. "Please. I am your father. I made mistakes... business decisions back then were complicated. I was trying to protect the family asset."
"You forged my signature on a grand-paternal estate document, Dad," I said, my voice echoing off the concrete walls of the garage. "You stole my $350,000 life savings. You let me struggle as a single mother while you secretly gave a multi-million dollar plot of land to Tessa so she could live in luxury. Which part of that was 'protecting the family'?"
"I was going to pay you back eventually!" my father pleaded, raising his trembling hands. "Once the land was fully developed, Tessa and Mark were going to give you a cut!"
"That is a lie!" Tessa suddenly yelled, turning on my father with terrifying fury. "You never told me we had to give June anything! You told me it was my inheritance! You lied to me!"
"Shut up, Tessa!" my father snapped, his desperation finally tearing away his calm mask. "I did it to set you up! You and the boys! June was always independent! She was always fine on her own!"
"Oh, I see," I said, a cold laugh escaping my lips. "Because I worked my fingers to the bone and didn't whine, you decided I deserved to be robbed. Because Tessa was entitled and demanding, she deserved millions."
"June, please," my father fell to his knees right there on the oil-stained concrete of the parking garage, tears finally streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. "If you file that fraud suit, the district attorney could get involved. I’m sixty-eight years old. I will go to prison. Your mother will lose the house. You can't do this to your own father!"
I looked down at the man who had loomed like a giant over my entire life. I remembered all the family dinners where he humiliated me. I remembered how he stood by yesterday while my daughter sobbed in the mud, covered in filth, being ridiculed by his favored grandchildren.
I felt no satisfaction in seeing him on his knees. I felt only a vast, cleansing emptiness.
"You should have thought about prison twelve years ago, Dad," I said quietly.
I turned on my heel and walked toward the glass doors leading to the office elevators.
"June! June!" Tessa screamed behind me, running up and grabbing my arm. "You can't ruin my life over a stupid dress! It was just mud! They're just kids!"
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I stopped. I slowly turned my head and looked at my sister’s fingers gripping my coat.
"It was never about the dress, Tessa," I whispered, stripping her hand off my arm with brutal strength. "The dress just reminded me who you really are. And now, you're going to find out who I am."
