Chapter 10 - The Empty Estate
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By the second week of January, the formal appraisal and clearing of the Columbus estate were underway. Ethan, Robert, and Marcus drove down to oversee the inventory audit of the property before it was officially listed on the commercial real estate market through Hayes Global Holdings’ private equity division.
I stayed behind in Chicago with Mia and Robert, who was slowly, day by day, rediscovering the simple joys of a quiet life free from constant walking on eggshells. He helped Mia with her painting, shared stories about Ethan’s childhood that made me laugh until I cried, and apologized a hundred times for not standing up to Diane decades ago.
“You don't need to apologize anymore, Robert,” I told him one afternoon as we sat together on the back deck while Mia played in the snow. “You broke the cycle. That’s all that matters now.”
Meanwhile, out in Columbus, Ethan walked through the sprawling, empty halls of the house where his mother had played queen for twenty years. The professional movers had already packed up the legal heirlooms and personal belongings belonging to Robert, boxing them up for shipment back to Chicago. The luxury furniture, the designer rugs, and the ostentatious art pieces purchased with embezzled trust funds had been tagged by federal marshals as seized assets pending liquidation.
The house echoed hollowly with every footstep.
Standing in the grand formal dining room—the very room where Diane had thrown a glass of wine across the table in another life, and where she had struck me across the face just weeks prior—Ethan ran his hand along the polished mahogany surface of the table.
“It’s just wood and drywall,” Ethan said quietly, speaking into his phone while on speaker with Marcus, who was reviewing the property listing descriptions in the study.
“It’s a prime commercial redevelopment parcel, actually,” Marcus corrected briskly from the other end of the line. “Our zoning analysts confirmed yesterday that the city council approved the rezoning of this entire subdivision for high-density luxury townhomes. The property value just tripled overnight.”
Ethan looked out the massive arched window toward the snow-covered front lawn where Diane had hysterically screamed at the county deputy just days before her accounts were frozen.
“Tear it down,” Ethan instructed smoothly.
Marcus paused on the other end. “Excuse me?”
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“You heard me, Marcus,” Ethan repeated, a cold, satisfied smile touching his lips. “I don't want another family living in this monument to toxicity. Tear the house down to the foundation, clear the land, and let the developers put up townhomes. Let something new and honest grow in its place.”
“Consider it done,” Marcus replied, the sound of a pen scratching against paper echoing through the speaker. “Demolition permits go out tomorrow morning.”
