Chapter 4 - The Legal Wall
By Wednesday, my parents had realized the extent of their problem.
They couldn’t access the joint emergency fund I had set up for them.
They couldn’t use the lake house, as the locks had been changed by the property management company.
My father finally showed up at the hospital, but he didn't make it past the lobby.
Julian met him there.
“I want to see my daughter,” Dad demanded, his face purple with rage.
Julian stood firmly in front of the elevators.
“Miranda has explicitly denied you visitation rights,” Julian said smoothly.
“I’m her father! I have legal rights!”
“You have no legal rights over a thirty-two-year-old woman, Mr. Hayes.”
Dad stepped aggressively into Julian’s personal space.
“She’s heavily medicated,” Dad argued. “You’re manipulating her to steal our money.”
“The money belongs to Miranda,” Julian corrected without flinching.
“We raised her! We supported her!”
“You ignored nine calls while she was bleeding out in a twisted car,” Julian stated coldly.
Dad recoiled, genuinely shocked that Julian knew the details.
“That was a misunderstanding,” Dad stammered.
“It was a choice,” Julian said. “And actions have consequences.”
Julian handed my father a thick manila envelope.
“What is this?” Dad asked, eyeing it suspiciously.
“A cease and desist order,” Julian explained. “Stop contacting Miranda, or we will file for a restraining order.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dad muttered, opening the envelope.
“I never kid about my clients' safety,” Julian said, turning his back and stepping into the elevator.
Upstairs, I listened to Julian recount the interaction.
“He took the envelope?” I asked, staring at my bruised hands.
“He did,” Julian confirmed. “But they won’t stop here.”
“No,” I agreed. “They’ll try to embarrass me next.”
“Are you prepared for that?”
“I built a tech company in a male-dominated industry,” I reminded him.
Julian smiled for the first time since the accident.
“I pity them,” he said softly.
“Don't,” I replied. “They brought this on themselves.”
May you like
My chest ached as I took a deep breath.
I mourned the parents I wished I had, not the ones I was currently fighting.
