I grabbed her wrist and swung it hard. Just then, Yvonne had been pulling me. I didn’t want any of them to touch me again. Marcus’ mother immediately staggered and nearly fell from the force of my throw.
Her face went red with fury.
“You fucking bitch! I knew it! She dared to attack me!” she screamed.
“Tear it down! Tear it down right now! I wouldn’t live in this cursed house even if you gave it to me!”
She grabbed the ashtray from the coffee table and slammed it to the floor. The little boy shrieked with excitement, grabbed a small stool and began smashing things around him. Marcus climbed onto the sofa and ripped a framed antique painting off the wall.
I spoke in a cold voice, “That painting is Pablo Picasso’s original. It was sold at auction two years ago. It’s worth thirty million. You should be very careful.”
Marcus froze with the painting in his hands. However, his mother only laughed louder.
“Ha! Who are you trying to fool? Thirty million? That’s phantom money!” she shouted.
“You don’t even know what thirty million is, yet you’re bragging!”
Marcus’s face showed he believed her. With a final shove, the prized painting fell as its frame broke. The little boy jumped on the canvas, stomping it into pieces. Within minutes, the painting was destroyed.
Yvonne did not join the smashing. Instead, she slipped into my parents’ bedroom while everyone else was distracted. When she came back out, her hands were full of my mother’s jewelry. Her eyes were wet with greedy excitement.
I was about to rush at her when a firm voice came from the doorway and several police officers hurried in.
“Who called the police?” one of them demanded.
