Chapter 8 - FOSTER TRASH
Harrison Vance’s mansion looked different without an army of employees.
The gates remained open for investigators.
Two black vehicles from Matteo’s security company waited outside.
A Dallas police car sat across the street.
Elena arrived with Matteo, Adrian, and a victim advocate.
She refused to enter alone.
She also refused to let Matteo turn the meeting into intimidation.
“No threats.”
“I know.”
“No breaking furniture.”
Matteo looked offended.
“I don’t break furniture.”
“You once threw a desk through a window.”
“That was a very small desk.”
Adrian stared straight ahead.
“I strongly recommend neither of you continue this conversation in front of counsel.”
Elena almost smiled.
Then she looked at the mansion.
The humor disappeared.
She had attended eight Christmas dinners inside that house.
Seven Thanksgivings.
Her wedding rehearsal dinner.
Her baby announcement.
Every year, Harrison had made some variation of the same remark.
Julian rescued you from a difficult life.
You should remember how fortunate you are.
A foster girl marrying a Vance.
Quite a story.
Elena had smiled through all of it.
Not today.
Harrison waited in the library.
His attorneys sat nearby.
Boxes covered the floor where investigators had already removed records.
He looked diminished without his tailored confidence.
But not defeated.
“Elena.”
She entered.
Matteo stayed near the doorway.
Harrison looked at him.
“Must he be here?”
“Yes.”
Harrison sighed.
“What do you want?”
Elena placed the wooden box of letters on his desk.
His face changed.
“Where did you get those?”
“Your wife.”
Harrison looked irritated.
“Vivian had no right.”
Elena laughed.
“No right?”
“You stole thirty-seven letters from me.”
“I preserved them.”
“You intercepted them.”
“For good reason.”
Matteo stepped forward.
Elena raised one hand.
He stopped.
She looked at Harrison.
“Tell me the reason.”
Harrison leaned back.
“Your brother was becoming dangerous.”
Matteo’s expression hardened.
Elena continued.
“That was my decision to make.”
“You were young.”
“I was twenty-three when some of these arrived.”
“You were building a respectable life.”
“And Matteo threatened that.”
Matteo laughed once.
Harrison looked at him.
“You know what you are.”
Matteo answered quietly.
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
Harrison ignored him.
Elena opened the box.
“You made me think he abandoned me.”
“I prevented disruption.”
“You isolated me.”
“I protected Julian’s marriage.”
“There it is.”
Harrison frowned.
“What?”
“You still think my life belonged to your family.”
He said nothing.
Elena lifted another letter.
“You knew Matteo was my brother before I married Julian.”
“Yes.”
“You hid it from Julian.”
“Yes.”
“You stopped our letters.”
“Yes.”
“You forged my name.”
“I did not personally forge anything.”
“You ordered other people to use my signatures.”
Harrison looked toward his attorneys.
Elena shook her head.
“Don’t bother.”
“The recordings already exist.”
His expression tightened.
She continued.
“And you created documents designed to give Julian control over me if I became medically incapacitated.”
“The documents protected the family.”
“They stripped me of autonomy.”
“You were threatening divorce.”
“I was trying to escape your son.”
Harrison leaned forward.
“Julian loved you.”
Elena stared at him.
“No.”
“He loved owning the version of me that was afraid to leave.”
Harrison’s eyes hardened.
“He gave you everything.”
“A home.”
“A name.”
“Security.”
Elena nodded slowly.
“That is what all of you believed.”
“That I came from foster care, so whatever Julian gave me should have been enough.”
“That I should accept humiliation because the house was large.”
“That I should accept control because the clothes were expensive.”
“That I should accept being frightened because the surname was prestigious.”
Harrison scoffed.
“You’re exaggerating.”
Elena touched the bruise on her cheek.
“This is what your son did when there were eighty witnesses.”
She looked directly at him.
“Imagine what he did when there were none.”
For the first time, Harrison had no answer.
Elena continued.
“He called me foster trash.”
Harrison looked away.
“You did too.”
“I never used those exact words.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“You reminded me constantly that I had come from nothing.”
Harrison gave a small, bitter smile.
“You did come from nothing.”
Matteo moved.
Elena turned.
“Stay.”
He stopped.
She looked back at Harrison.
“No.”
“I came from my mother.”
“From my brother.”
“From teachers who helped me.”
“From foster parents who were kind even when the system wasn’t.”
“I came from every bus ride I took to school.”
“Every double shift I worked.”
“Every scholarship application.”
“Every night I studied while everyone else slept.”
“You looked at an orphan and saw nothing.”
“That says more about you than it ever said about me.”
Harrison’s expression finally cracked.
Elena picked up the box.
“One last question.”
He stared at her.
“What else did you keep?”
“Nothing.”
She waited.
Harrison’s eyes shifted.
Matteo noticed.
“So there is something,” Elena said.
“No.”
“Harrison.”
He looked toward his attorney.
The attorney whispered.
“Answer only if you choose.”
Elena almost left.
Then Harrison spoke.
“There was a photograph.”
She stopped.
“What photograph?”
“Your mother.”
Matteo straightened.
Harrison opened a drawer.
Investigators had apparently missed a false wooden panel at the back.
He removed an old envelope.
Matteo crossed the room.
Harrison held up a hand.
“It isn’t evidence of any crime.”
“Give it to her,” Matteo said.
Harrison handed the envelope to Elena.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Sofia DeLuca.
Elena had only four photographs of her mother.
This one was different.
Sofia looked approximately twenty-five.
She stood outside a small restaurant beside two children.
Matteo was nine.
Elena was a baby.
A third person stood beside Sofia.
A tall man.
His face had been folded backward when the photograph was stored.
Elena unfolded it.
Matteo stared.
Neither sibling spoke.
Their father.
Antonio DeLuca.
The man who disappeared when Elena was three.
Elena looked at Harrison.
“Where did you get this?”
“The investigator.”
“Why keep it?”
“Because there was writing on the back.”
Elena turned the photograph.
Four words appeared in their mother’s handwriting.
Antonio says Dallas is dangerous.
Matteo took the picture.
“What does that mean?”
Harrison shrugged.
“I have no idea.”
“You investigated our father?”
“No.”
“Did the investigator?”
“He attempted to.”
“And?”
“He found something unusual.”
Matteo stepped closer.
“What?”
Harrison looked between them.
“Your father’s death was never officially confirmed.”
Elena froze.
“What?”
“The investigator found no death certificate.”
Matteo’s expression changed.
“Our mother told us he died.”
Elena looked at him.
“No.”
“She told us he was gone.”
They both remembered differently because they had been children.
Sofia had cried.
There had been men at the door.
Then Antonio disappeared.
Months became years.
Eventually everyone simply treated him as dead.
Harrison continued.
“The investigator traced a Social Security number connected to Antonio DeLuca until 2004.”
Matteo went pale.
“That was years after Mom died.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Harrison hesitated.
“New Orleans.”
Elena gripped the chair.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Harrison looked almost confused by the question.
“It wasn’t relevant to the Vance family.”
Matteo laughed.
The sound was empty.
Elena stared at Harrison.
There was the answer to everything.
If information could not benefit Harrison, it did not matter.
People were assets.
Children were clauses.
Love was leverage.
Elena placed the photograph back inside the envelope.
“Thank you.”
Harrison blinked.
“For what?”
“For finally making this easy.”
“What?”
She looked around the mansion.
“I spent years wondering whether I was cruel for wanting to leave Julian.”
“Whether I had failed as a wife.”
“Whether I should keep trying because families are supposed to stay together.”
She shook her head.
“But this was never a family.”
“It was a corporation pretending to be one.”
Harrison stood.
“You think Matteo’s world is better?”
Elena looked toward her brother.
“No.”
“Matteo has made mistakes.”
“He has lived a life I don’t always understand.”
“He has done things I may never agree with.”
Matteo accepted the words without flinching.
Elena continued.
“But when I asked him not to hurt anyone, he listened.”
“When I asked him to protect the hospital employees, he listened.”
“When I told him I wanted the truth instead of revenge, he listened.”
She looked at Harrison.
“Your son never listened when I said he was hurting me.”
Harrison had no response.
Elena walked toward the door.
His voice followed her.
“You’ll regret destroying this family.”
She stopped.
Without turning around, she answered.
“I didn’t destroy it.”
“I survived it.”
Then she walked outside.
Matteo followed.
The afternoon sun felt warm against Elena’s face.
For the first time in years, she could inhale without wondering whose permission she needed.
Adrian approached.
“We have news.”
Elena looked at him.
“Good or bad?”
“Depends who you are.”
Matteo almost smiled.
“What happened?”
“The court granted the temporary protective order.”
Elena exhaled.
“And?”
“Julian is prohibited from contacting you directly.”
“Your residence can be secured for retrieval of personal belongings.”
“And the judge froze disputed marital transfers pending review.”
Elena nodded.
“What about the divorce?”
“Filed this morning.”
She looked at the envelope containing her father’s photograph.
“Then I’m done with Julian.”
Adrian hesitated.
“Not quite.”
Elena’s smile vanished.
“What now?”
“Julian asked to make a statement to investigators.”
Matteo frowned.
“Why?”
May you like
Adrian looked toward them.
“Because he says Harrison planned something Elena still doesn’t know about.”
