Chapter 6
“The Gilbert Group has officially declared bankruptcy.”
On the news, Errol stood at the courthouse steps, his suit no longer sharp, dark circles under his eyes.
I turned off the TV, picked up my coffee, and gazed out the window at the sunrise. It was the day he and his son moved out of the Bellevue Avenue.
The Porsche had been repossessed by the bank last week; now, they couldn’t even afford a taxi.
I hadn’t finished my coffee when Mia hurried in. “Ms. Hayward, you won’t believe who I just saw downstairs.”
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“Barbara?” I put down my cup.
“Exactly! She was with Mr. Davis…”
Mr. Davis, Errol’s biggest competitor.
“Ms. Hayward, look at this,” Mia said, showing me her phone.
On the surveillance footage, Barbara, in high heels, was walking into a mall with Mr. Davis. She leaned coquettishly against his shoulder, entirely forgetting she was out on bail.
“And this.” Mia swiped to another photo.
It was of Barbara dining with Mr. Davis at a Michelin–starred restaurant.
The familiar restaurant. The familiar spot.
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A month ago, Errol had been there, ordering the most expensive bottle of red wine for Barbara.
“Should I show Mr. Gilbert?” Mia asked.
I shook my head. “He’ll find out soon enough.”
Sure enough, within a week, someone had caught Barbara and Mr. Davis checking into a hotel.
Once the photo hit the media, Errol was in a frenzy, sending frantic messages in the finance group chat: “Where is Barbara? Who’s seen her?”
Mr. Davis himself replied: “Mr. Gilbert, your ex–wife has met with Barbie. You should ask
her about it.”
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The group exploded with chatter.
“Did Barbara switch sides to Mr. Davis?”
“What a slut, now everyone’s turning against Mr. Gilbert.”
“Look at our Mr. Gilbert now!”
“Serves him right! Who told him to-
I was about to leave the group chat when Errol’s call came through.
“Amelia!” His voice was hoarse. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
“Knew what?” I asked softly. “Knew that Barbara would immediately latch onto Mr. Davis? Or knew that you’d be ruined?”
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“You-!” He suddenly fell silent.
“I remember you saying that Barbara was a thousand times better than me,” I said slowly. “It seems you’re right. In just a few days, she’s already found a new benefactor.”
“Shut up! You think you’ve won?” His teeth ground together. “I’ll make you pay… eventually…”
“Dad!” Derry’s voice came through the phone, strained with panic. “I don’t want to go to the new school!”
“There’s no choice. St. George’s School-”
“I don’t want to transfer!” Derry screamed. “I’ve finally earned my place at St. George’s! I’m not going to that shitty school!”
I hung up and opened my social media feed.
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The parents‘ group from St. George’s School was buzzing:
“Did
you hear? The Gilberts went bankrupt?”
“Serves them right! He was always so arrogant.”
“Now my son has been hanging around Derry for all this time–bad luck.”
“Derry’s transferring? Where to?”
“Heard it’s some experimental school in the suburbs.”
“Isn’t that a school for migrant workers‘ kids?”
I left the group chat and opened my email. A file from the prosecutor’s office popped up:
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“Indictment regarding Errol’s alleged embezzlement charges…”
At the same time, another scandal was brewing in the financial world.
Mr. Davis was spotted taking Barbara to tour luxury homes, indulging in extravagant purchases. By the time they stepped out of the first property–a $40 million duplex, it was already off the market.
“Mr. Gilbert, did you see this?” Someone tagged Errol in the group chat. “This is the house you two looked at together!”
Errol didn’t reply.
He was at the suburban experimental school, handling Derry’s transfer paperwork.
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“Mr. Gilbert, your documents-
“My dad used to be the CEO of the Gilbert Group! Can’t you show a little more respect?!” Derry shouted at the teacher. “How dare you treat my dad like this in this pathetic school!”
Errol slapped his son across the face. “Isn’t this embarrassing enough for us?”
Derry froze.
This was the first time he had ever been treated like this.
Back at St. George’s School, he had been untouchable, a prince among his peers, no one daring to challenge him.
But now, he wasn’t even as important as a regular student.
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“Excuse me!” A parent, looking like a migrant worker, barged into the room. “Director, my son’s tuition fees-”
Derry looked at the boy dressed in cheap clothes and suddenly broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.
He finally understood–he had become the kind of person who had to grovel.
One week later.
“Ms. Hayward, the subpoena from the prosecutor’s office just arrived,” Mia said, holding up a document.
I nodded. “Did Errol turn himself in today?”
“He did, but the reporters cornered him,” she opened her phone to show me a video.
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In the footage, Errol was stumbling, trying to shield his face as the police escorted him into a car.
“Wait!” he suddenly turned around. “Let me make a call!”
The camera captured him outside the police station, trembling as he dialed a number.
No one knew who he was calling.
But I did he was trying to reach Barbara.
Too bad someone was currently in Mauritius, enjoying a romantic getaway with Mr. Davis.
“This was taken today, Mia swiped to show another photo.
In the image, Barbara lay on a yacht in a
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bikini, with Mr. Davis by her side.
The caption read: *“For the rest of my life, please be kind to me.”*
I glanced at the clock.
“Let’s go. It’s time for court.”
11/1
