Chapter 3 - Darkness and Desperation
Across the street, the sun was beginning to set over the suburban neighborhood, casting long shadows across the dark, silent house where Mark and Eleanor were stranded.
Mark paced back and forth across the hardwood floor of the living room, frantically pressing buttons on his smartphone. Every attempt to make a call failed; his service line had been disconnected. The central air conditioning was off, the refrigerator had stopped humming, and the electronic smart locks on the front door were completely frozen in place.
"Mark! Do something!" Eleanor shrieked, fanning herself with a thick stack of unpaid fashion magazines in the stifling heat. "It's ninety degrees in here! My blood pressure is spiking! Go back across the street and break that gate down!"
"Are you insane, Mom?" Mark yelled back, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "She owns that mansion! The gates are solid iron, and there are security cameras every five feet! How did she buy a twenty-million-dollar estate without me knowing?"
"She hid it from you!" Eleanor screamed, her face flushed red with fury. "She’s your wife! Everything she owns belongs to you! Go to the bank, draw out cash, and hire a locksmith!"
Mark grabbed his leather wallet, pulled out his black corporate credit card, and sprinted out to his luxury sports car parked in the driveway. He jumped into the driver's seat, pressed the ignition button, and was met with absolute silence. The vehicle’s remote telematics system had been triggered from my app, immobilizing the engine and locking the transmission.
"Dammit!" Mark slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
He jumped out of the car and ran down the driveway toward the local ATM three blocks away. When he inserted his personal debit card into the machine and punched in his PIN, the screen flashed bright red: ACCOUNT FROZEN / REVOKED BY PRIMARY HOLDER.
He tried his second credit card. DECLINED. He tried his third card. DECLINED.
Panicking, Mark called his bank's emergency customer support line from an ATM emergency phone.
"Sir, I am looking at your account profile," the representative said neutrally. "Mrs. Claire Miller removed your status as an authorized user on all joint accounts forty-five minutes ago. She also filed an affidavit declaring all secondary cards as unauthorized corporate expenses."
"She can't do that! I'm her husband!" Mark screamed into the receiver.
"Sir, Mrs. Miller is the sole primary owner and grantor of all funds in these accounts. Legally, you hold zero balance. Have a good day."
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The line went dead.
Mark stood on the asphalt, the harsh glare of the ATM screen illuminating the sudden, horrifying realization dawning on him: without my money, he was completely penniless. He didn't own the car he drove, he didn't own the house he slept in, and he didn't even have five dollars to buy a bottle of water.
