Chapter 6 - The Siege of Edgewater
By 4:00 PM on Thursday afternoon, Derek was sitting on the bare floor of the Edgewater apartment, surrounded by takeaway boxes, empty soda cans, and piles of unpaid mail.
The air conditioning had shut off two hours ago—a system automated through Skylar’s primary utility application, which she had transferred to her temporary corporate housing address. The apartment was rapidly growing hot, humid, and stale.
Suzanne sat on the bare leather sofa, her face red from crying, her phone cradled between her ear and shoulder as she argued with her landlord.
"I told you, the wire transfer is delayed!" Suzanne yelled into the receiver. "My brother is a senior executive at Meridian Mutual! We are dealing with a corporate bank restructuring!"
She paused, listening to the response, before slamming her phone onto the cushion. "He gave me until 6:00 PM tomorrow, Derek! 6:00 PM! Or my locks are being changed!"
"Will you shut up about your rent for five minutes?!" Derek shouted from the floor, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his eyes bloodshot. "Look around you! My firm put me on leave! My credit cards were declined at the grocery store an hour ago! I have four hundred dollars to my name!"
"Then call her!" Suzanne screamed back. "Go down to her office! Stand outside until she talk to you! She’s your wife, Derek! She can't just throw you away like trash!"
"She locked me out of everything, Suzanne! She has lawyers! She has the police involved!"
LOUD KNOCKING.
The heavy wood of the front door vibrated under three sharp, authoritative blows.
Derek stopped yelling. He looked toward the entryway, his heart catching in his throat.
"Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office!" a loud, booming voice called through the door. "Occupant of Apartment 1804, open the door immediately!"
Suzanne gasped, clutching her designer bag to her chest. "Derek... who is that?"
Derek stood up slowly, his knees aching. He walked to the door, opening it three inches while keeping the security chain engaged.
Two armed Sheriff’s deputies stood in the corridor, accompanied by a process server holding a thick blue folder.
"Derek Mercer?" the lead deputy asked, confirming his identity against a state ID photo on his tablet.
"Yes... what is this?"
"You are being formally served with an Emergency Writ of Possession under Case #44-B," the process server announced, sliding a set of legal papers through the gap in the door. "Along with a formal Notice of Eviction issued by the Circuit Court."
"Eviction?!" Derek yelled, pushing the door slightly wider. "This is my residence! I live here with my wife!"
"The property is owned exclusively by Skylar Thorne, sir," the lead deputy stated coldly. "Under the terms of the protective order issued yesterday, your occupancy rights have been terminated immediately. You have exactly twenty minutes to gather your personal clothing and vacate the premises."
"Twenty minutes?!" Suzanne shrieked from behind him, rushing to the entryway. "You can't do that! Where are we supposed to go?!"
"If you fail to vacate the property within twenty minutes, sir, you will be placed under arrest for felony criminal trespass," the deputy continued without altering his tone. "Officers will remain on site to monitor your departure."
Derek looked at the deputies, then at the process server, then at the empty, dark hallway behind them.
The full, brutal reality of his situation finally crushed him.
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There was no negotiation. There was no charm offensive that could undo the court order. There was no sister’s excuse that could delay the officers standing in front of him with handcuffs clipped to their duty belts.
"Twenty minutes, Mr. Mercer," the deputy said, looking at his watch. "Starting now."
