Chapter 2: C: The Unarmed Confrontation

👉 Previous decision: You chose to march out into the hallway and knock directly on the adjoining suite door to confront Julian head-on.

A cold rage propelled me forward. I yanked my door open.

My bare feet hit the gritty linoleum of the hallway. I marched the five steps to the adjoining suite, my knuckles banging against the door.

“Julian! Arthur!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “I know what you’re doing in there!”

The door swung open a moment later. Julian stood there, dressed in a silk robe, a slight smile playing on his lips. Arthur Phelan hovered behind him.

“Evelyn,” Julian said, his voice a calm murmur. “Are you alright? You seem distressed.”

“Don’t you dare gaslight me!” I spat. “I heard everything. The deeds, the conservatorship!”

Arthur Phelan stepped forward, his expression hardening. “This woman is clearly unstable, Julian. She’s been making wild accusations.”

“I’m calling 911,” Julian said, pulling out his phone. His thumb expertly tapped the screen.

He spoke into the receiver, his voice shifting to a tone of strained concern. “My mother, Evelyn Hensley… she’s having a serious episode. Delusional, aggressive…”

Within minutes, the building’s emergency siren wailed. Two NYPD officers arrived, followed by a pair of paramedics.

Julian put a comforting hand on Phelan’s shoulder. “Thank you for being a witness, Arthur.”

Phelan nodded grimly at the officers. “She’s been erratic for weeks, making up stories. It’s a tragedy.”

“Ma’am, we need you to come with us,” an officer said, his hand resting on his belt. His eyes held a weary pity.

They guided me gently, but firmly, down the hallway. My protestations sounded like a frantic squawk even to my own ears.