Chapter 8 - Parasites in the Light
The journal was filled with Hayden's handwriting.
Pages upon pages of calculated notes detailing his strategy to keep me isolated, broke, and dependent.
July 14th:
"Matilda asked about buying a new mattress for her back pain. Told her business is bad and we can barely afford rent. She apologized and offered to take weekend night shifts. Perfect. The weaker she feels, the less likely she is to reach out to her grandmother."
November 2nd:
"Brenda wants the new Porsche. Wired $120k from the Huntington feed account. Matilda spent two hours clipping coupons for groceries today. She actually cried because she lost a five-dollar discount voucher. Easy target."
I closed the book, my hands shaking—not with sadness, but with absolute disgust. Every single interaction, every loving word, every plea of hardship had been a premeditated mental execution.
Suddenly, the front door of the apartment crashed open.
"What the hell are you doing in my house?!" a loud voice screamed from the hallway.
It wasn't Hayden. It was his sister, Chloe, accompanied by her mother, Brenda.
Brenda looked disheveled, her expensive hair styling falling apart, her eyes wide with rage. Chloe was holding designer shopping bags, looking furious.
They charged into the bedroom, but were instantly blocked by two built security guards in tactical suits.
"Get your thugs out of my son's apartment!" Brenda roared at me. "You vicious little hypocrite! You ruined our lives! The bank locked my accounts! They came to my house with paper notices!"
I stood up slowly from the closet floor, holding Hayden's lockbox in my hands.
May you like
I didn't cower. I didn't hide. I looked Brenda dead in the eye.
"Your son’s apartment?" I said, my voice echoing coldly through the room. "The rent for this place was paid from my stolen inheritance, Brenda. The clothes on your back were bought with money meant for my child."
