Chapter 7 - The Unraveling of Eleanor
While Caroline’s marriage hung by a thread, Eleanor Sterling was fighting a war on three fronts.
Sitting inside the office of a court-appointed public defense attorney in downtown Boston, Eleanor was sweating through her silk blouse.
Across the desk sat a sharp, no-nonsense female lawyer named Sarah Jenkins, who was reviewing a thick stack of criminal indictments issued by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
"Mrs. Sterling," Ms. Jenkins said, tapping her pen on the desk. "I’m going to be very direct with you. The District Attorney's office has compiled a formidable case of Grand Larceny, Identity Theft, and Procurement Fraud against you."
"Identity theft?!" Eleanor squeaked. "I am her mother! I had full verbal permission to use her accounts for family matters!"
"Do you have that permission in writing?" the attorney asked.
"She's my daughter! Mothers don't need written permission from their daughters!" Eleanor insisted, her voice rising in outrage.
Ms. Jenkins closed the folder with a loud thud.
"In the eyes of the law, Mrs. Sterling," the lawyer said coldly, "your daughter is a thirty-year-old adult citizen residing in Singapore. She is an executive of an international financial firm. You forged her electronic signature on four separate commercial balance transfers totaling over ninety thousand dollars over a two-year period."
"She has millions!" Eleanor cried, tears finally spilling over her heavily painted cheeks. "She doesn't need that money! She’s selfish! She lives in a luxury high-rise in Asia while her poor father and I are struggling!"
"Her wealth is irrelevant to a criminal court, ma'am," Ms. Jenkins stated firmly. "What is relevant is that your daughter's legal team has offered a conditional plea arrangement."
Eleanor wiped her eyes frantically. "A plea? What kind of plea?"
Ms. Jenkins pulled a single sheet of paper from the file.
"If you and your husband execute a formal confession of financial fraud," the attorney read, "surrender all claims to the Concord property without further litigation, and complete two hundred hours of community service, your daughter will instruct her legal team to request a suspended sentence. No jail time."
Eleanor’s mouth fell open. "She wants me to do... community service? Like a criminal?!"
"You are facing criminal charges, Mrs. Sterling," Ms. Jenkins reminded her sharply. "If this goes to a jury trial in Boston, given the overwhelming paper trail provided by Vance & Ross, you are looking at thirty-six to forty-eight months in a state correctional facility."
Eleanor sat back in her chair, breathing heavily, feeling the walls of her life closing in until there was no room left to breathe.
"And... what about Richard?" Eleanor whispered.
"Your husband has already agreed to the terms," Ms. Jenkins revealed quietly. "He signed his copy of the plea agreement an hour ago in the lower conference room."
May you like
Eleanor felt as if she had been struck by lightning. "Richard signed it without telling me?"
"He told the prosecutor," Ms. Jenkins said, looking at Eleanor with a mixture of professional detachment and pity, "that he spent thirty years letting you chase a social status you couldn't afford, and that he was ready for the quiet to begin."
