Chapter 5 - THE FIRST OF THE MONTH
December 1st arrived on a freezing Tuesday morning.
At 6:00 AM, my phone alarm went off. I sat up in my bed at Simone’s townhouse, pulled up my Chase banking app, and confirmed the status of my recurring payments.
Freedom Mortgage ACH Transfer: CANCELLED / REJECTED.
City Power & Light Auto-Pay: CANCELLED.
City Water Service Auto-Pay: CANCELLED.
State Farm Insurance Auto-Pay: CANCELLED.
For the first time in forty-eight months, $2,982.00 stayed in my checking account on the first day of the month.
At precisely 9:15 AM, Simone walked into her office at Vance & Sterling Legal Partners downtown and filed an emergency Notice of Equitable Lien and Unjust Enrichment Claim against my parents' property at the County Clerk’s Office. The filing fee was $150. By 10:30 AM, the lien was officially attached to the deed of 1428 Elmwood Lane.
At 1:00 PM, the storm hit.
I was sitting in my cubicle at my office, reviewing an Excel spreadsheet, when my phone on the desk began to vibrate furiously.
Screen display: MOM CELL.
I ignored it and let it go to voicemail.
Two minutes later, it vibrated again. Screen display: DAD CELL.
I let it go to voicemail.
Thirty seconds later, my screen lit up with a barrage of text messages.
MOM (1:04 PM): Cassidy! Where is the mortgage payment? I just checked our online banking account and the bank says the transaction failed due to insufficient funds! Did you change your account number?! Call me immediately!
DAD (1:08 PM): Cassidy, this is not a game. The electric company just sent an automated text saying our service will be disconnected on the 15th if the past balance isn't paid. You need to fix this right now.
MOM (1:12 PM): Cassidy, answer your father! Freedom Mortgage called us! They said our account is past due and they added a $75 late fee! You are ruining our credit score! How could you be so selfish?!
I read every message calmly. I didn't reply.
At 2:30 PM, my desk phone at work rang. Internal line.
I picked it up. “Cassidy Miller, Financial Analysis.”
“Cassidy,” the receptionist’s voice sounded panicked. “There’s a young guy down in the main lobby demanding to see you. He doesn't have an appointment, and he’s yelling at security.”
Brent.
I closed my laptop. “I’ll be right down, Sarah. Tell security not to call the police yet.”
I took the elevator down to the glass-fronted lobby of my corporate building. Brent was standing near the security turnstiles, wearing his heavy work jacket, his face red and furious. Two armed security guards were standing three feet away from him, their hands resting on their belts.
When Brent saw me step out of the elevator, he pushed forward. “There she is! Cassidy!”
“Step back, sir,” the head security guard warned sternly.
I walked over calmly, stopping two feet away on the other side of the brass barrier. “What are you doing here, Brent?”
“What am I doing here?!” Brent shouted, his voice echoing across the marble lobby. “Mom is at home crying her eyes out! Dad’s blood pressure is through the roof! You canceled the mortgage payment!”
“I moved out,” I said simply. “Like Dad told me to.”
“You moved out, but you still owe the household expenses for this month!” Brent yelled, waving a finger at me. “You can't just abandon your family on five days' notice! Mom doesn't have $1,800 sitting in her checking account right now! Do you want them to lose the house? Is that what you want? You selfish bitch!”
The office workers walking through the lobby turned to stare.
I didn't blink. I didn't flinch.
“Brent,” I said, my voice cold and crystal clear. “You’re thirty-five years old. You live in the second-floor master bedroom. You drive a fifty-two-thousand-dollar truck paid for in cash by Dad’s legal settlement.”
Brent froze. The color drained from his face so fast he looked like he had been struck by lightning.
“What... what are you talking about?” he stammered, his angry bravado suddenly evaporating.
“I know about the $420,000 settlement, Brent,” I said quietly, leaning in so only he could hear. “I know Dad’s case settled three years ago. I know you’ve all been hoarding money while bleeding me dry. And as of 9:00 AM this morning, my attorney filed a legal lien against the house for the $154,000 I paid over the last four years.”
Brent’s eyes stretched wide in absolute, horrifying terror. “A... a lien?”
“If Mom and Dad want to keep the house, tell them to draw from Dad’s settlement account to pay the mortgage,” I said smoothly. “And if you want electricity, I suggest you sell your truck.”
I turned to the security guard. “Officer, this man is trespassing. Please escort him out of the building.”
“Right away, Ms. Miller,” the guard said, grabbing Brent’s arm firmly and marching him toward the revolving glass doors.
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“Cassidy! Wait!” Brent screamed, struggling against the guard’s grip as he was pushed out into the freezing winter street. “Cassidy, you can't do this to us! It’s family!”
The glass doors slid shut, cutting off his voice completely.
