Chapter 5 - The Morning Sun
The morning sun cut through the dusty blinds of the guest room like a blade of light, waking me before my alarm even went off. Beside me, Phedra was still fast asleep, her breathing slightly more regular than it had been the night before, though her face remained painfully thin. I slipped out of bed quietly, pulling on a clean flannel shirt and jeans before walking downstairs. The house was quiet, but the air buzzed with an unmistakable, electric tension.
In the kitchen, Selina was already up, wearing a brand-new silk blouse and her favorite gold hummingbird pendant—which I had quietly fished off her dresser while she slept and slipped back into my own pocket, though she hadn't noticed yet. Godfrey was sitting at the granite island, drinking expensive espresso from a imported machine, scrolling frantically through online listings for luxury sports cars on his tablet.
"Morning, brother!" Godfrey looked up with a wide, oily grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Did your lawyer friend call yet? What time are we heading to the registry office?"
"He'll be here at eleven sharp," I said, pouring myself a cup of black coffee. "And make sure all the paperwork for the auto shop and the SUV are sitting on the counter. He'll need the physical titles to cross-reference them with the trust consolidation forms."
Selina bustled into the kitchen, smelling heavily of expensive perfume. "Don't you worry, Damian. Everything is ready. Godfrey and I spent half the night organizing all the property deeds and vehicle titles. We want this done right. After all, a family has to stick together, doesn't it?"
"Right," I replied, taking a slow sip of my coffee. "A family has to stick together."
At exactly eleven o'clock, a sleek black sedan pulled up into the circular driveway. A tall man in a sharp charcoal suit stepped out, holding a heavy leather briefcase under his arm. He walked up the front steps and pressed the doorbell with an authoritative ding-dong.
Godfrey nearly tripped over his own feet rushing to open the door.
"Ah, you must be the legal counsel," Godfrey beamed, shaking the man's hand vigorously. "Come right in! We've been waiting for you!"
The man in the suit didn't smile. He stepped into the foyer, his sharp eyes scanning the expensive furniture, the granite countertops, and the gleaming hardwood floors before locking onto me. He walked straight over, opened his briefcase, and pulled out a thick stack of legal documents bound with heavy blue cardstock.
"Good morning, Mr. Vance," the man said in a deep, professional baritone, handing me the file. "I've brought the complete asset seizure and structural repossession briefs, exactly as we discussed."
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Selina’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her brow furrowing in sudden confusion. She took a half-step forward, her eyes darting between the man in the suit and me.
"Asset seizure...?" Selina whispered, her voice suddenly tightening with a sharp edge of alarm. "What did he just say, Damian? What kind of legal jargon is that?"
