Chapter 3 - The Flying Monkeys
Over the next forty-eight hours, Kallie’s quiet apartment turned into a fortress under siege.
Bethany had deployed the full force of the Vance family machine. Relatives who hadn't spoken to Kallie in years were suddenly calling, texting, and showing up outside her apartment building.
On Tuesday afternoon, Kallie’s elder sister, Megan—who had always been Bethany’s second-in-command—arrived at Kallie’s front door.
Kallie opened the door only as far as the heavy brass safety chain would allow.
“Kallie, open the door,” Megan demanded, holding a bag of gourmet takeout pastries as a peace offering. “We need to talk like rational adults.”
“Say what you have to say from the hallway, Megan,” Kallie replied, standing firmly in the doorway.
Megan let out an annoyed sigh, crossing her arms. “Look, Kallie, what Seth did was a bit harsh, okay? Nobody is saying he should have hit her that hard. But calling the police? Taking him to court? You’re turning our family into a public scandal!”
“He bruised a toddler’s face, Megan,” Kallie said, her eyes fixed on her sister. “You have two kids of your own. If Seth slapped your daughter across the face until she bruised, would you sit back and eat pastries with him?”
Megan shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Kallie’s eyes. “That’s different. Seth is under a lot of stress right now with his new job. Plus, Mom and Dad are heart-broken! Dad’s blood pressure is through the roof!”
“Dad was healthy enough to threaten to take Paisley away from me on the phone two nights ago,” Kallie noted coldly.
Megan lowered her voice, leaning closer to the crack in the door. “Kallie, be realistic. You’re a single mother working as an independent interior designer. Mom and Dad have real money. They’ve already retained Arthur Vance—Uncle Arthur, the corporate attorney. If you force this to trial, they will destroy your reputation. They will make sure you never work in San Diego again.”
Kallie looked at her sister—a woman who had willingly traded her own morality to keep her parents’ financial favor.
“Is that why you were quiet at the party, Megan?” Kallie asked softly. “Because you were afraid Mom would cut you out of the family trust?”
Megan’s face went crimson. “I am trying to help you, Kallie!”
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“You’re helping a child abuser escape justice,” Kallie said clearly. “Get out of my hallway before I call the building manager for harassment.”
Kallie closed the heavy wooden door and slid the deadbolt shut. She walked over to her desk, opening her digital case file. She added Megan’s visit to her detailed timeline of events, documenting every attempt at witness tampering and coercion.
