Chapter 13 - Eviction Notice
By noon on Thursday, the financial contagion had reached the personal threshold of the River Road estate.
A light, freezing rain was falling, coating the pristine manicured hedges and circular brick driveway in a slick glaze of black ice.
A white Ford Explorer bearing the official seal of the *Henrico County Sheriff’s Civil Process Division* pulled up to the front iron gates, which were standing open because the electric motor had short-circuited two days earlier and Richard couldn't afford the four-hundred-dollar emergency repair call.
Deputy Mark Stevens stepped out of the cruiser, holding an amber clipboard encased in waterproof plastic. He walked up the stone steps of the six-thousand-square-foot colonial manor and pressed the doorbell.
Inside, the house was freezing. The thermostat had been locked at fifty-eight degrees because the fuel oil company had refused delivery without cash up front.
Evelyn opened the door, wearing a heavy wool cardigan over her clothes, her face gray, her hair unwashed.
"What is this?" she asked, her voice cracking with exhaustion.
"Mrs. Evelyn Miller?" the deputy asked politely, tipping his wide-brimmed hat.
"Yes."
"Ma'am, I have a formal Notice of Seizure and Foreclosure Sale issued by the Henrico County Circuit Court on behalf of L&N Memorial Holdings."
He pulled a folded document from his clipboard and handed it to her.
Evelyn stared at the paper as if it were a venomous snake. "This is our home. This is private property. My husband has owned this house for twenty-two years."
"According to the court decree, ma'am, the residential parcel was pledged as secondary cross-collateral on the commercial credit facility with Southern Commercial Bank in October 2022," the deputy explained, reciting the legal mechanics with the flat, dispassionate tone of an officer who had performed this duty hundreds of times. "The note was purchased by L&N Memorial Holdings. The cure period expired at midnight last night."
"You’re evicting us?" Evelyn shrieked, her voice echoing down the street. "In the middle of January? Where are we supposed to go?"
"The notice gives you seventy-two hours to vacate the premises, Mrs. Miller," Deputy Stevens said, turning toward his cruiser. "On Sunday at noon, the locks will be changed by a court-appointed bailiff. Anything remaining inside the property after that time will be inventoried and auctioned to satisfy the outstanding deficiency balance."
He climbed back into his vehicle, shifted into drive, and rolled down the driveway, leaving Evelyn standing on the icy porch with the legal decree clutched in her freezing fingers.
Upstairs, in her childhood bedroom, Melissa was sitting on the floor surrounded by designer luggage, frantically stuffing cashmere sweaters, Christian Louboutin heels, and jewelry boxes into duffel bags.
Her phone was pressed to her ear, ringing continuously.
"Pick up, Carter. Please, pick up. Pick up, pick up..."
*“The number you have dialed is no longer in service or has been disconnected.”*
Melissa threw the phone against the wall. The screen shattered into a spiderweb of black glass, the pieces scattering across the hardwood.
She dropped her head into her hands and let out a dry, ragged scream of pure terror. For thirty years, she had believed she was special. She had believed she was immune to the hardships of ordinary people because her father was Richard Miller, because she was beautiful, because she had been chosen as the princess of River Road.
May you like
Now, she was packing her clothes into garbage bags because the sister she had mocked was evicting her into the winter cold.
***
