rom Dave, and four from Caleb.
At 7:36, Caleb texted.
Caleb: WTF? Did you do this? Mom’s crying. Fix it now.
I felt a strange flash of satisfaction.
Not because I enjoyed their panic, but because his tone hadn’t changed at all. He was still ordering me around like I existed to solve his problems.
Me: No.
That was my whole reply.
Then I shut my phone off.
I got Mia ready for school. She noticed my face immediately.
“You look mad,” she said.
“I’m setting a boundary,” I told her.
“With Aunt April?”
“Yes.”
Mia nodded once. “Good.”
That simple response almost made me laugh.
For ten minutes on the drive to school, life felt normal. Mia talked about some kid in class pretending to speak French and getting caught using Google Translate wrong. We laughed.
After I dropped her off, I went to work and enjoyed the quiet.
No buzzing phone.
No emergency to solve.
No mess to clean up.
Just my life.
When I turned my phone back on around noon, it erupted again.
Voicemails. Messages. Missed calls stacked everywhere.
April started with rage.
Then came fake apologies.
Then guilt.
Then more threats.
