Edward put a hand on my shoulder.
“But we are going to win, Brenda. I have no doubt about that. The evidence is too clear. Your son condemned himself with his own words.”
We spent the next hour reviewing every detail, every document I might have at home, every interaction with Michael in recent months that could be relevant. Edward took meticulous notes, building the case piece by piece. By the time we finished, he had four pages full of information.
“One more thing,” Edward said as he put away his notebook. “Michael is going to try to contact you. He’s going to call. He’s going to send messages. He’ll probably come to your house. He’s going to try to convince you not to go through with this. He’ll cry. He’ll beg. He’ll promise to pay you back. He’ll say it was a mistake, that he’s sorry. Don’t believe any of it.”
“I won’t,” I promised, although a part of me, that motherly part that never completely dies, ached at the thought of rejecting my son if he came asking for forgiveness.
“And don’t talk to him without me present,” Edward continued. “Nothing he says can help you, but he might try to get you to say something that helps him. If he contacts you, don’t answer. If he shows up at your house, don’t let him in. Call me immediately.”
“Understood.”
Edward looked at his watch.
“The locksmith should be arriving at your house soon. Let’s go.”
He stood up and grabbed his car keys.
“After they change the locks, you’ll stay at your house tonight. Lock all the doors and windows and keep your phone close in case you need to call the police.”
The drive back to my house was silent. Edward drove while I looked out the window, watching the familiar streets of my neighborhood pass by. Everything looked the same as always, but I had changed completely. I was no longer the same Brenda who had left this morning.
When we arrived at my house, the locksmith was already waiting. He was a young man named Luis with a toolbox and a professional attitude.
“Are you the lady who needs the locks changed?” he asked.
“Yes,” Edward answered for me. “We need to change all the locks on the house. Front door, back door, any other entrance.”
Luis inspected the doors.
“I have to go get the materials. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
He left in his van, leaving us waiting at the entrance of my house.
Edward and I went inside. The house felt different now, cold, empty, as if the air itself had changed. I looked at the photographs on the hallway wall. Michael at his graduation, smiling broadly in his cap and gown. Michael at his wedding, elegant in his suit with Christina by his side. Michael as a child, hugging me with those small arms.
All those images now seemed like lies to me. Memories contaminated by what I had discovered that day.
“Do you want me to take them down?” Edward asked gently.
I shook my head.
“No. Not yet. I need to process all this. Then I’ll decide what to do with them.”
I sat on the living room sofa, the same sofa where Michael had sat six months ago when he convinced me to go to the bank.
“Edward, do you think he was always like this? Or did something change him?”
Edward sat beside me, thoughtful.
“I don’t know, Brenda. Sometimes people only show their true colors when they have the chance. Maybe he always had this capacity for cruelty and just never had a reason to show it. Or maybe the debts, the pressure, the ambition turned him into someone different.”
He paused.
“But honestly, that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is what he did and how we’re going to handle it now.”
My phone rang in my purse. I took it out and saw the name on the screen.
Michael.
My heart raced.
Edward looked at me and shook his head.
“Don’t answer. Let it go to voicemail.”
I let it ring until it cut off.
Seconds later, a text message arrived.
Mom, please. I need to talk to you. It was a misunderstanding. Let me explain. I love you.
I showed the message to Edward. He snorted in disgust.
“A misunderstanding, right? Stealing two hundred thousand dollars is just a small misunderstanding.”
He took my phone.
“May I?”
I nodded.
Edward started to type something, but then he stopped.
“No. Better not to respond at all. The silence will make him more nervous, and nervous people make mistakes.”
The phone rang again.
Michael again.
Again I let it go to voicemail.
Then another message.
Mom, I know you’re angry. You have the right. But I’m your son. You can’t do this. We can fix this as a family. Don’t involve strangers.
“Strangers?” I muttered. “He calls them strangers if I involve the authorities, but he had no problem treating me like a stranger when he was planning to rob me.”
Another message arrived, this one more desperate.
Please, Mom, if you go to the police, my life is over. I’ll lose everything. My job, my reputation, everything. Is that what you want? To destroy your own son?
Edward read the message over my shoulder.
“Typical manipulator. He’s trying to make you feel guilty for his actions. He’s reversing the roles, making you seem like the bad guy for reporting him, when he’s the one who committed the crime.”
“I know,” I said, although every message sent a pang of pain through me. “But it still hurts. He’s my son, Edward. As much as he betrayed me, he’s still my son.”
“I know,” Edward said softly. “And that’s what makes this so hard. But remember, you are not destroying his life. He destroyed his own life with his decisions. You are just protecting yourself and demanding justice.”
Luis the locksmith returned with his materials. He spent the next two hours changing the locks on all the doors. While he worked, my phone didn’t stop ringing. Calls from Michael. Increasingly desperate messages. Then messages from Christina started coming in too.
Mrs. Torres, please be reasonable. Michael is devastated. He made a mistake, yes, but we all make mistakes. Don’t ruin his life over this.
Another one from Christina:
Think about your future grandchildren. Do you want them to grow up knowing their grandmother put their father in jail? What kind of family would we be?
Edward read that message and let out a bitter laugh.
“Future grandchildren. She’s playing every emotional card she has. How convenient that she mentions grandchildren now, when a few hours ago she was toasting to leaving you homeless.”
