Chapter 7 - The Auction of Illusions
The estate auction of the contents of 1422 Cascade Drive was held on a crisp Saturday afternoon in late April. Under the strict terms of the divorce settlement and the subsequent asset liquidation order, everything that had been purchased with Lauren's money during the marriage—but claimed by Ethan or Margaret as their own—was being sold to satisfy the outstanding legal fees and corporate restitution balances.
Lauren sat in a parked black SUV at the edge of the property, watching through the tinted windows as a crowd of local antique dealers and curiosity seekers milled about her lawn.
She watched as the heavy mahogany dining table—the one where Margaret had delivered her sharpest insults—was carried out by two movers, its polished surface reflecting the indifferent sky. She watched as the silver service set Margaret had demanded as a "family heirloom" was tagged with a neon-green auction sticker and sold for a fraction of its imagined value.
Ethan stood near the edge of the driveway, wearing an old canvas jacket that looked several sizes too large for his diminished frame. He looked older, his shoulders hunched against the wind, his eyes tracking the movement of his old life being loaded into the back of strangers' trucks.
He looked toward the black SUV, knowing she was inside, but he didn't approach. He couldn't. The terms of the protection order were absolute; five hundred feet was the distance the law had placed between his ruined pride and her sovereign peace.
As the auctioneer's gavel banged down on the final lot—a set of crystal wine glasses Margaret had used to toast her short-lived victory—Lauren rolled up her window.
May you like
"Let's go, Arthur," she said softly to her attorney, who was sitting in the driver's seat. "There's nothing left here to see."
The SUV pulled away from the curb, its tires smooth against the concrete, leaving the remnants of the Thorne family illusion behind on the asphalt.
