Chapter 3 - The Unraveling of a Golden BoyBy 6:00 PM, we were settled into a private trauma suite at St. Jude Memorial Hospital. Lena’s arm had been securely set in a plaster cast by an orthopedic specialist—a clean fracture of the radius, caused by a vicious blow from the bat. She was resting under the influence of mild pain medication, her breathing finally deep and regular for the first time in years.
Outside the room, down the sterile hallway, Derek and I stood by the vending machines sharing a cup of bitter black coffee.
"The police detective took my statement," Derek said quietly, staring down into his paper cup. "They're holding Travis overnight without bail. Between the 911 recording of the threat, the physical evidence of the bat, and Lena’s medical records from today, the prosecutor is looking at felony domestic assault, aggravated battery, and witness intimidation."
"Good," I muttered, rubbing my temples where a throbbing migraine had taken up residence. "I hope they throw the book at him. I hope he rots in a cell."
"It goes deeper than that, Tom," Derek sighed, turning to look at me with a solemn expression. "While you were driving to the house, I didn't just walk in and hit him. While he was stammering and trying to hide his phone under the couch cushions, I saw what he was actually scrambling to delete."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Derek pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to me. On the screen was a screenshot of an online banking ledger, paired with a series of frantic text messages between Travis and an unknown number.
"Travis didn't just trap Lena emotionally," Derek explained, his voice hard as iron. "Over the last year, he systematically drained her personal savings account—about forty-five thousand dollars she inherited from Mom. When she found out about it last week and threatened to leave him, that’s when the violence started. Today wasn't a random outburst, Tom. He was trying to force her to sign over power of attorney so he could sell her condo and clear out her remaining assets before fleeing the state."
The coffee cup in my hand shook so violently I had to set it down on the metal ledge before I spilled it.
Forty-five thousand dollars. Her inheritance. The financial cushion she had built for her future, stolen by the man who had promised to cherish her.
"He's going to prison," I whispered, the rage inside me burning so hot it felt cold. "And when he gets out, he's going to find out what it means to cross this family."
"No," Derek said softly, placing a heavy, grounding hand on my shoulder. "We aren't going to lower ourselves to his level. We’re going to use the law, we’re going to recover every single cent of her money, and we’re going to rebuild her life from the ground up. Because right now, Lena doesn't need vengeance. She needs to know she’s safe."
Before I could answer, the elevator dinged at the end of the hallway, and a figure stepped out, hurrying toward us with an expression of profound, tearful shock.
May you like
It was Sarah, Travis’s mother—my former friend and neighbor.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw us standing outside Lena’s room, her hands flying to her mouth.
Related Stories
