Chapter 9 - The Ultimatum in White|
At two o'clock that afternoon, the door to my hospital room swung open.
Preston stepped inside carrying a cheap, wilted bouquet of supermarket carnations. Trailing right behind him was Gerard Mills—a high-priced corporate attorney known across Philadelphia for burying employment discrimination suits for the Caldwell family business.
Preston walked over and set the flowers on my bedside table, leaning down briefly. He didn't kiss me.
"I am sorry things became so... unpleasant, Amelia," Preston said smoothly.
Unpleasant. Not violent. Not illegal. Just unpleasant.
Gerard Mills immediately stepped forward, placing a thick stack of legal documents on my tray table.
"Mrs. Caldwell," Gerard began in a practiced, authoritative tone, "this is a private, internal family settlement. Signing these documents will allow everyone to move forward cleanly without unnecessary public scandal."
My mother was waiting quietly in an adjoining consultation room out of sight. A police detective had already been contacted, but Mother instructed her to wait in the hallway. We wanted Preston and his lawyer on record first.
"What do these papers say?" I asked, lowering my head and pretending to struggle with my sight.
Gerard cleared his throat. "The document confirms that the cleaning agent was discharged accidentally when you reached for it awkwardly. You will formally waive all civil and criminal claims against Mrs. Veronica Caldwell, agree to binding confidential arbitration, and pledge never to speak to the media."
I squinted at the pages. "Is that all?"
"There are a few standard financial adjustments," Gerard continued blithely. "The agreement transfers legal ownership of all wedding gifts and monetary checks to Preston. Furthermore, a clause stipulates that if you file for divorce within the first twelve months, you must fully reimburse the Caldwell family for all wedding expenses, venue costs, and your current medical bills."
They weren't just trying to cover up an assault; they were actively trying to turn a profit on my blindness.
"I need time to read this thoroughly," I said gently.
Preston’s polite smile vanished instantly. "You don't have options here, Amelia!"
"I literally cannot see the text, Preston."
"Then Gerard will summarize it for you!" Preston snapped, taking a step closer. "Stop being difficult!"
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"I want my own attorney to look at it."
"You work as an assistant archivist at a public museum!" Preston scoffed loudly. "Your cheap health insurance won't even cover the specialist eye care you're going to need! The Caldwell family is willing to pay for your medical recovery—but only if you stop acting like an enemy!"
