ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
The truth had done its work.
Marcus reached out and tapped the speaker button.
“Mr. Mitchell,” a clipped voice said, “this is Wells Fargo. Foreclosure proceedings begin tomorrow. You have thirty days to vacate.”
Vanessa collapsed onto the couch.
“The ring,” she cried, yanking it from her finger. “We can sell it!”
Marcus didn’t even look. “That’s synthetic. Worth a couple hundred dollars. My wife’s ring is insured for more than this house.”
Vanessa screamed and hurled the ring at Darren. They turned on each other, shouting, blaming, unraveling in real time.
