PART 11 – THE RECURRING PAST
The taps on the car window sounded hollow in the silence of the afternoon. I sat there for a moment breathless, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The man who years ago had destroyed my life was now standing there as if he owned the world. Slowly, I pressed the button to roll down the window. “Hello, sweetheart,” Mark said in a smooth, confident voice.
“It's been a long time. You look well, though I see you're making life unnecessarily difficult for yourself.” I looked him straight in the eye. No fear, no hesitation. Only a deep, cold rage. “What are you doing here, Mark?” I asked in a sharp tone. His smile widened, he rested his elbows on the car door and looked around, surveying the old house. “Well, I heard that the sale of this property fell through at the last minute because of some of your strange whims.
And since my son and daughter are in quite a lot of trouble because of your obstinacy, I thought: let me come take a look in person.” So he admitted it openly. He was behind everything. Daniel and Sofia had merely been his pawns. “You have nothing left to seek on this property, Mark,” I said with a glacial voice. “And don't count on the sale of this house.
It isn't mine, and it will never belong to you or your accomplices.” Mark's smile slowly faded from his face. His eyes narrowed into two slits. The charm vanished like snow in the sun; the true, aggressive nature of the man emerged. “Watch what you say, Clara,” he hissed, leaning closer. “Do you think you've won with those old letters from your mother?
Do you think you can stop me? Your children depend entirely on me. If you don't cooperate, I'll make sure they lose everything they have. Debts, jobs, their entire future. And you will answer for it personally.” He still thought he could manipulate me through fear for my children. But he didn't know that I already knew the truth. He didn't know that on the passenger seat I had the blue file from Attorney Van Dalen.
I slowly picked up the file, set it on the dashboard, and showed it to him through the open window. Mark's eyes darted to the cover. The color drained from his face. His arrogance gave way to terrified panic. “W… where did you get that?” he stammered, his hand reaching out to grab the file. I pulled it back quickly and rolled the window up with a loud hum. “It's the end of your game, Mark,” I said through the glass as I started the engine. “The police and the authorities have this file now. Good luck with your life on the run.” I backed out of the driveway and left him standing there, stunned and furious on the pavement, as he realized that his empire of lies had definitively crumbled.
