By three o'clock that afternoon, rain began to fall over the wrought-iron gates of the grand Sterling mansion in suburban Dallas.
Three moving vans operated by Vance Global Logistics were parked in the circular driveway.
Workers in black uniforms were efficiently hauling antique furniture, paintings, and velvet sofas out the front door and loading them into the trucks.
Victoria Sterling stood near the fountain in a soaked silk coat, screaming at the moving crew commander.
Victoria: Stop touching those antiques! That 18th-century cabinet was imported from Paris! You have no right to put your hands on it!
Crew Chief Miller: Ma'am, we have a legal writ of possession signed by the District Court Judge. Everything inside this house belongs to the new property owner, Vance Capital.
Victoria: I built this home! My late husband paid fifteen million dollars for this land!
Crew Chief Miller: Your late husband pledged this land as collateral to Vance Capital twelve years ago, ma'am. The debt was never paid off.
Carter walked up the driveway, his shoes covered in mud, carrying a single cardboard box containing a few framed photographs.
Victoria: Carter! Did you talk to her?! Did she sign the settlement release?!
Carter: She bought the mortgage, Mother. She owns the house, the land, the cars, and the furniture.
Victoria: What?! That's impossible! We have legal protections against predatory foreclosures!
Carter: Not when the foreclosure is triggered by a federal fraud indictment. The government turned over the receivership to Vance Capital two hours ago.
A sleek black SUV pulled up to the fountain, its tinted window sliding down to reveal Sarah, Carter's former assistant, wearing a Vance Global badge.
Sarah: Mrs. Sterling, Miss Vance instructed me to deliver these to you personally.
Sarah held out two large black plastic garbage bags through the window.
Victoria: Garbage bags?! What is the meaning of this insolence?!
Sarah: Miss Vance said you have twenty minutes to pack your personal clothing from the guest room. Anything left after three-thirty will be donated to the city shelter.
Victoria: I am Victoria Sterling! I will not pack my wardrobe in garbage bags!
Sarah: Then you'll leave with the clothes on your back, ma'am. Federal marshals are arriving at three-thirty-five to clear the premises.
Carter: Take the bags, Mother. Just take the bags.
Victoria clutched the plastic bags to her chest, tears finally breaking through her cold facade as she realized the full weight of her destruction.
Victoria: How did this happen, Carter? How did we lose everything in less than twenty-four hours?
Carter: You thought you could abuse a defenseless woman because she didn't flaunt her power, Mother.
Carter: You thought money made us invincible. But she was the one holding the keys to the entire house, and we were just guests.
The SUV pulled away, spraying rainwater over Victoria's expensive leather shoes as the federal marshal vehicles turned onto the driveway.