Chapter 16 - Retaliation
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Every head in the dining room turned to me. Arthur froze, his fingers still digging into my mother's arm, his eyes wide with shock and fury.
"Sarah?" my mother gasped, trying to pull away from him.
"I said, let go of her arm," I repeated, stepping directly into Arthur's space. I reached out and forcefully peeled his fingers off my mother's skin, pulling her behind me.
"Who invited you into my home?" Arthur snarled, trying to regain his composure in front of his wealthy guests. "This is a private gathering. Leave immediately, or I will have you arrested."
"Go ahead and call the police, Arthur," I said, my voice echoing off the high ceilings. "In fact, call Chief Miller! Let's have him come right now so I can show him—and everyone sitting at this table—what you do to your wife when the doors are closed!"
I grabbed the sleeve of my mother's uniform and pulled it back, exposing the dark, hideous finger-shaped bruises covering her forearm.
Gasps echoed across the dining room. A prominent female board member covered her mouth in horror.
"Look at it!" I demanded, pointing at my mother's arm. "This is how the great Judge Arthur Vance treats his wife! He forces her to scrub floors on ruined knees, denies her medical care, and physically assaults her when she drops a tray!"
"She's lying!" Arthur shouted, his suave mask slipping entirely, revealing the ugly monster underneath. "My wife is mentally unstable! She falls down continuously, and her daughter is an ungrateful opportunist trying to extort me for money!"
"I am a licensed emergency room nurse," I said coldly, pulling my St. Jude's medical credential from my bag and holding it up for the room to see. "I document abuse for a living. These are clear defensive contusions caused by severe mechanical force. And tomorrow morning, these photos will be attached to an elder abuse report filed with the state board."
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Arthur stepped toward me, his fists clenched, his breath hot and ragged. "You just ruined your career, little girl," he whispered sinisterly. "I sit on the hospital foundation board. You won't have a job by sunrise."
"I don't care about my job," I whispered back, my eyes blazing. "I care about my mother."
