68-Year-Old Widow Eleanor Pendelton Handed An Empty Box Labelled 'Freeloader' By Her Arrogant Stepson At A $500,000 Town Gala, Only To Hand Him Back The Bankruptcy Decree Destroying His Timber Empire
A hushed gasp rippled through the assembled town council members at the head table. Mayor Carver, his ruddy face usually beaming, now stared with wide, unblinking eyes at the bankruptcy document.
Derrick stood frozen, pale and rigid, as if turned to stone.
“Pendelton Timber Corp,” I stated, my voice clear and steady, cutting through the sudden silence. “Or what’s left of it. Is now officially liquidated.”
I pointed a calm finger at the specific clauses on the document.
“For outstanding debts totaling $4.2 million. Debts, I might add, that were incurred solely through the reckless expansion projects Derrick initiated.”
Whispers erupted again, louder this time, among the town elders and businessmen.
I glanced at Derrick. His chest rose and fell rapidly under his tailored suit. He looked like a man drowning in thin air.
“Those debts,” I continued, making sure every word reached the furthest corner of the hall, “were transferred to Derrick Pendelton’s sole personal holdings. Every last dollar.”
His eyes darted wildly, searching the faces of the council members for any sign of disbelief, any flicker of support. There was none. Only shock.
“The new state-of-the-art mill,” I explained, gesturing vaguely towards the window, knowing everyone pictured the towering, half-finished structure just outside Oakhaven. “The exorbitant machinery, the sudden land acquisitions… all funded by leveraging everything the company, and implicitly, the family, had.”
Derrick made a choked sound, a desperate, animalistic noise.
“This is a lie!” he spat, his voice cracking. “She’s fabricating this!”
But the document lay there, stark and undeniable. The official seal was not Eleanor Pendelton’s.
It was the State of Vermont’s.
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