Chapter 3 - The Phone Storm
My phone vibrated so violently against the kitchen counter that it nearly slid off the edge. The caller ID flashed: *Mom*.
I didn't answer.
Two minutes later, the screen lit up with Andrew’s name. Then my father, Richard. Then Mom again. Voicemail after voicemail piled up, filling the digital inbox until a red warning badge appeared on my phone screen.
"Are you going to listen to them?" Marcus asked, leaning against the sink as he dried a coffee mug.
"Put it on speaker," Mia said softly from the breakfast nook. She had her laptop open, reviewing her scholarship paperwork for Stanford, but her eyes were fixed on the phone. "I want to hear what they say when they realize they can't pretend I don't exist anymore."
I tapped the screen and hit play on my mother's message.
Her voice wasn't just angry; it was shrill, vibrating with pure outrage. *"Claire Marie! Have you completely lost your mind?! A legal demand? A partition action?! You are threatening to evict your own parents from their home! After everything we have sacrificed for you! You call me back this instant, or so help me God, I will disown you!"*
The message beeped and ended.
I pressed play on Andrew's message. His tone was slick, condescending, and brimming with suppressed rage. *"Claire, grow up. What is this, some pathetic tantrum because we threw a party for Kayla? Kayla is a child! She worked hard to finish middle school! You’re acting like a jealous monster, and you're humiliating Mom and Dad. Cancel this ridiculous lawyer stunt immediately before you ruin this family forever."*
Mia didn't cry. Instead, a cold, wry smile formed on her lips. "Funny," she whispered. "Kayla worked hard to finish eighth grade, but I graduated top of my class with twenty AP credits, and they couldn't even bother to drive across town."
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Before I could answer, a loud pounding echoed from the front door.
They hadn't just called. Andrew had driven across town.
