Two weeks after the party, the penthouse that had stood as a symbol of my daughter-in-law’s inflated self-worth and my son’s complicity was no longer theirs. Linda, smug and unbending, had laughed off my cryptic warning during the party, secure in her belief that they owned their world. But she had overlooked the fact that the foundation of their glass castle wasn’t the marble floors or the designer furnishings; it was me, Elena, the old woman she had publicly humiliated.
The evening I left their party was the last time I would allow myself to be diminished. My phone call to Mr. Henderson set in motion a series of events that Linda and David would never have anticipated. The guarantee loan I had signed years ago, the key that had unlocked the doors of their extravagant home, was now my tool. I had known the risk when I had put my own home on the line to help them achieve their dream. I just never thought they would turn that dream into a nightmare for me.
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