Chapter 11 - The Trespasser
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"You listen to me, Margaret, and you listen closely," I said, stepping closer until I forced her off my welcome mat and onto the top step of the porch.
The rain poured down around us, soaking her designer coat, but I didn't care.
"I built my life with my own two hands," I told her, my voice unwavering. "I bought this house. I earned my career. I let you and your son into my life because I thought you were family. Instead, you proved you were just parasites looking for a host."
Margaret’s face flushed a furious red. "How dare you speak to me—"
"I am speaking," I interrupted sharply, pointing a finger directly at her chest. "Daniel is a grown man. If he is too embarrassed to go to work, that is the consequence of his own greed. You enabled his weakness, and you destroyed his relationship. You are the architect of his misery, Margaret. Not me."
She opened her mouth to argue, but the sheer truth of the words seemed to hit a nerve. She stumbled over her words, clutching her purse tightly.
"If you ever step foot on my property again," I continued, pulling my phone from my pocket and dialing 9-1 on the keypad, "I won't just slam the door. I will have you arrested for trespassing. And I will make sure the arrest record is mailed to every country club you belong to in this state."
Margaret gasped, her eyes wide with shock. She knew I wasn't bluffing. The girl who used to bite her tongue to keep the peace was dead. The woman standing before her was fiercely protective of her peace.
Without another word, Margaret turned around, abandoning her umbrella on my porch, and scurried through the rain back to her luxury sedan.
May you like
I watched her tail lights fade down the street. I picked up her discarded umbrella, tossed it into the trash can by the garage, and walked back inside my warm, safe, perfectly peaceful home.
The ghost of the Collins family was finally exorcised.
