When Michael and Samantha rushed to the neighborhood committee to pick up Ethan Jr., the boy was bawling, snot running down his face.
“Mom, Dad,” he cried.
“They kicked me out.”
“The school doesn’t want me.”
“I can’t go home.”
“Why? Why is this happening?”
His sobs grew louder, and Samantha joined in, breaking down completely. She cursed through her tears, “It must have been that bitch Claire Mitchell!”
“It had to be Claire!”
“What right does she have to throw my son out!”
Michael’s face hardened.
When he called me, I was sitting with his business partner, sipping tea. The man poured me another cup, smiling obsequiously. “Ms. Mitchell, how come you had time to come in person?”
His tone was overly polite. “Last time you asked us to inject funds into your husband’s project and fully support him—we’ve already done exactly that. Is there something else you’re dissatisfied with?”
Tea in hand, I placed the call on speaker.
Michael’s furious voice thundered. “Claire Mitchell!”
“Who gave you the right to leave Ethan Jr. homeless?”
“I’m warning you—get over here and fix this!” Michael spat curses. “You were the one who had my family’s house demolished!”