Chapter 4 - The Phone Meltdown
My phone began ringing at 6:15 a.m.
I was sitting at my kitchen island, sipping a hot cup of black coffee and watching the morning news, when the screen lit up with my father’s face. I let it ring.
It stopped for three seconds before ringing again. Then my mother’s number popped up. Then Brent’s.
By 6:30 a.m., my phone was vibrating continuously like a trapped insect as the entire family realized their house of cards had completely collapsed.
I finally swiped to answer as my mother’s name flashed for the fifth time.
“Julia?!” My mother’s voice didn't sound like a regal matriarch anymore. It was shrill, desperate, and cracked with absolute hysteria. “Julia, what is the meaning of this?! Some police officers—some strange men just came to the house and handed your father legal papers! They said we’re being evicted! They said the mortgage has been accelerated!”
I took a slow sip of my coffee, keeping my voice eerily calm. “Good morning, Mother. Happy New Year.”
“Don’t you dare give me that! Explain this right now!” she shrieked in the background, and I could hear the faint sounds of doors slamming and people shouting upstairs. Brent’s voice bellowed in the distance, demanding to know what was going on.
“There is nothing to explain,” I replied evenly. “You were served because you haven’t paid your mortgage in over a year. The house belongs to Apex Holdings. And as the primary shareholder of Apex Holdings, I decided I’m tired of playing charity.”
A dead silence fell over the other end of the line. You could have heard a pin drop across the state lines.
“Apex... Apex Holdings?” my mother whispered, her voice trembling violently. “What are you talking about? Your father bought this house—”
“Your father lost this house five years ago,” I corrected her, my tone as cold as the winter air outside. “When he ran your finances into the ground, I bought the mortgage. I’ve been paying your property taxes, your insurance, and your structural maintenance ever since. I kept a roof over your ungrateful heads because I thought, despite everything, you were still my parents.”
“Julia, you can’t do this!” Brent screamed, apparently grabbing the phone from my mother’s shaking hands. His voice was laced with frantic rage. “That’s our family home! Where are mom and dad supposed to go?! Where are we supposed to live? We have plans to renovate the kitchen this spring!”
“You can move into a modest apartment, Brent,” I said smoothly. “Or maybe you can use some of that country club money you’ve been flashing around instead of expecting your sister to subsidize your luxurious lifestyle while you sit around watching your children learn how to bully mine.”
“You’re doing this over some presents?!” Brent roared, losing whatever shred of composure he had left. “Over a stupid Christmas gift? Are you insane?!”
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“No, Brent,” I said softly, the anger finally burning away into absolute, unshakeable power. “I’m not doing this over a gift. I’m doing this because yesterday, you all proved that cruelty is your family tradition. And as of today, I am officially cutting you out of mine.”
I hung up the phone, walked over to settings, and blocked all three of their numbers with a single tap.
