Part 3
The tow truck driver wasted no time. He jumped out of the cab and began unwinding a heavy steel chain. The metallic clang echoed through the street. Clack. Clack. Clack.
Inside the house, the laughter of Charlotte’s friends died instantly. Charlotte appeared at the dining room window. Her face went pale with shock. She dropped her mimosa and rushed to the front door. “Hey! What are you doing?” she yelled, running across the lawn. The driver didn’t even glance at her. He hooked the chains onto the luxury SUV. “Vehicle impoundment, ma’am,” he said dryly. “You can’t do that! It’s my car!” “The vehicle is registered to Albert Hofmann,” the driver replied. “The impoundment order came through his lawyer.” By now, all of Charlotte’s friends had stepped out onto the porch. They whispered among themselves, wide-eyed at the scandal unfolding before their eyes. The woman, who so often portrayed herself as perfectly wealthy, now had to watch as her car was towed away in front of the entire neighborhood. The humiliation was complete. The SUV was lifted off the ground. Charlotte burst into tears as the tow truck drove off with her prized status symbol. At the same time, Lukas was experiencing his own nightmare at the car dealership. The bank manager had already called his boss. Rumors of personal bankruptcy were circulating. Lukas’s carefully cultivated image crumbled. By 2:00 that afternoon, they had no choice. They had to find me. They probably expected to track me down in a cheap bed and breakfast. Instead, the address Fiona had given them led to the most prestigious law firm downtown. When they pushed open the heavy glass doors of Cartwright’s office, they looked exhausted. They were ushered into a large conference room with glass walls. I was already seated at the other end of the table. My back was straight. My suit fit perfectly. I was no longer the old pensioner they’d relegated to a back room. I was the creditor. Fiona sat to my right, arranging the papers with surgical precision. Lukas and Charlotte sat opposite me. Neither of them could look me in the eye. “Dad…” Lukas began, his voice trembling. “Please. Stop it.” Charlotte leaned forward, trying to sound emotional. “Albert, we were just stressed that evening.”
“You misunderstood. We’re a family.” I looked at her coldly. “I didn’t misunderstand anything, Charlotte.” I clasped my hands on the polished table. “You told me to stay in my room. So I found a bigger one.” Fiona spoke up. “Mr. and Mrs. Hofmann, the situation is simple.” She slid three folders toward them. “The bank requires a new co-guarantor by the end of the week.” “The €65,000 loan is due today at 5:00 p.m.” Lukas buried his face in his hands. “We don’t have that kind of money, Dad. You know we live paycheck to paycheck. If you go through with this, we’ll lose everything. The house. Everything.” I looked at my son. He had chosen the arrogance of a cruel woman over the respect he owed his own father. “That’s the nature of accounting, Lukas,” I said quietly. “It all evens out in the end.” Charlotte’s feigned grief vanished, replaced by pure rage. “You’re a monster!” she hissed. “You lived under our roof for nothing!” I let out a short, dry laugh. Then I nodded to Fiona. She opened the last file. A slim black folder, elegant and simple. From it, she took out a bank statement and placed it in the middle of the table. Lukas leaned forward. Charlotte did the same. Her eyes fell directly on the line showing the account balance.
€804,312.45
