Chapter 12: The Packing Van

The gray moving van pulled up to the circular gravel driveway of the estate just past two in the afternoon, its heavy diesel engine rumbling like a low-throated beast against the quiet afternoon. I stood on the front porch with my hands tucked deep into my pockets, watching two men in blue uniforms step out of the cab and walk toward the guest lodge where Rebecca had been holed up for the past forty-eight hours. She had refused to come up to the main house, communicating only through frantic emails sent by her retained legal counsel demanding the return of her designer wardrobe, custom jewelry, and personal archives.
Sarah, who had returned that morning to help look after Emily while I managed the logistics, stepped out onto the porch carrying a tray of iced tea. She handed me a glass, her eyes fixed on the movers as they carried out a massive leather garment bag draped in opaque plastic. "Do you think she’s actually gone inside that lodge, or is she still hiding behind her lawyers?" Sarah asked softly, taking a sip of her drink.
"Her lawyers are handling the physical removal," I replied, watching the movers hoist a second heavy trunk into the back of the truck. "She caught a private flight out to her mother’s place in Scottsdale this morning. She couldn't stomach the thought of facing the local press when the court documents hit the public docket at noon."
"Good riddance," Sarah muttered, her jaw tightening. "No child should ever have to live in fear of a stepmother who treats a home like a PR firm."
Inside the house, the front door clicked open, and Emily walked out onto the porch, clutching her favorite yellow sketchbook to her chest. She stopped beside me, her blue eyes wide and calm as she watched the moving van doors swing shut with a dull metallic crash. She didn't look scared or angry; her expression was simply light, as if a heavy winter coat had finally been lifted from her shoulders.
May you like
"Are they taking all her boxes away, Daddy?" she asked, her voice clear and steady.
I reached down and rested a hand gently on her blonde head, feeling the warmth of the sun filtering through the porch roof. "Yes, sweetheart. They’re taking everything that doesn't belong here. This house belongs to just us now."