Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
The police arrived at the house at 3:00 AM.
The scene was pure, cinematic chaos. My parents tried to claim privilege, tried to name-drop judges and senators, but the evidence was too thick to ignore. They weren't just being arrested for child abuse; they were being dragged out in handcuffs for a web of white-collar crimes that spanned three states.
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I stood on the sidewalk, holding a cup of lukewarm coffee, watching the officers bring my brother out. He didn't look like the bored, arrogant man who had leaned against the wall two nights prior. He looked small. He looked like exactly what he was: a coward who had been hiding behind his parents' wealth his entire life.
As they drove him away, my father caught my eye through the window of the cruiser. For the first time in my life, he didn't look like a good man. He looked like a man who had realized that his daughter—the "soft" one—had been the one to pull the lever on his trapdoor.
