Part 5: Aftermath
The next morning, my mother called from a blocked number.
I answered because I wanted to hear what ruin sounded like in her voice.
“Elena,” she said, already crying. “Please. We made a mistake.”
“No,” I said. “You made a choice.”
“Mark left. Chloe is hysterical. Your father can’t even—”
“I don’t care.”
She went silent.
That was new for her. She had always counted on me filling silence with explanation, apology, compromise. I was done doing her work.
“Please,” she whispered. “We’re family.”
“You used that word like a weapon,” I said. “You don’t get to use it now as a bandage.”
