Chapter 5 - The First Wave
The sound that came through the speaker was not a gentle motherly inquiry. It was a high-frequency screech that caused Nathan to wince from three feet away.
"Olivia!" Evelyn’s voice dropped through the phone like acid on tin. "What is wrong with my card?! I am standing right here in front of the cashier at the club bistro, and the machine said DECLINED - CONTACT ISSUER! In front of Sarah Jenkins! In front of the entire tennis committee!"
"The card has been revoked, Mother," I said smoothly, taking another bite of my croissant.
"Revoked?!" she gasped, her breath catching so loudly I could hear the faint clatter of plates in the background of her call. "What do you mean revoked?! That is my secondary emergency card! I use it for my daily expenses!"
"You used it for your daily expenses when I authorized cardholder privileges," I replied. "I revoked those privileges at midnight last night."
"You can't do that!" she shouted, her voice rising an octave, completely unconcerned that she was standing in a public space. "That account belongs to your father's estate! He left that money for us!"
"He left the money in a spendthrift trust, Mother," I corrected her, keeping my voice low, warm, and entirely conversational. "A trust of which I am the sole trustee. Section 2, Paragraph B explicitly grants the trustee full authority to cancel corporate secondary lines if the cardholder demonstrates fiscal irresponsibility or engages in conduct hostile to the estate."
"Hostile?!" she shrieked. "Hostile to the estate?! Because your sister was upset at your wedding?!"
"Because your daughter destroyed twenty-five thousand dollars worth of private property," I said, dropping the warmth from my tone instantly. "Property that I personally paid for out of my non-trust accounts. Since the trust agreement requires me to protect the liquid stability of the estate, I have applied an offset. Your monthly allowance has been adjusted from six thousand five hundred dollars to twelve hundred dollars until the twenty-five thousand dollars in venue damages, cake replacement fees, and dress restoration costs are fully reimbursed."
There was a long, suffocating silence on the line.
I could hear her breathing—fast, shallow, gasping breaths like someone who had just stepped out into an ice bath.
"Twelve... twelve hundred dollars?" she whispered, the anger suddenly giving way to a raw, hollow disbelief. "Olivia, my property taxes are two thousand dollars a month! My country club membership alone is eight hundred! How am I supposed to live on twelve hundred dollars?!"
"You might consider cancelling the country club membership," I suggested helpfully. "And perhaps cooking your own breakfast instead of buying avocado toast at the bistro."
"You monster," she hissed, her voice trembling now with genuine, unadulterated hatred. "You heartless, vindictive little monster! Your father would be turning in his grave if he could see what you're doing to us! You're doing this because you're jealous! You've always been jealous of Mia because she's beautiful, because people love her, because—"
"Mother," I interrupted, my tone so quiet it forced her to stop talking just to hear me. "If you raise your voice at me again, I will initiate an immediate audit of the house's maintenance account. And if I find a single unapproved receipt from the last twelve months, I will reduce your allowance to the statutory zero floor permitted under state law."
"You... you wouldn't," she breathed.
"Try me," I said softly. "And while you're standing there at the counter, you might want to call Mia. Her tuition deposit for NYU was canceled at six this morning, and her loft lease guarantor was withdrawn. If she isn't awake yet, she's going to have a very busy afternoon."
I didn't wait for her to respond.
I pressed the red END CALL button, set the phone back on the marble table, and looked at Nathan.
He was staring at me with his mouth slightly open, a slow, quiet smile spreading across his face.
"You didn't just cut off their money," he said softly. "You completely re-wrote their reality in under eight hours."
"They wrote their own reality, Nathan," I said, reaching for my coffee cup. "They just used my pen to do it. I simply took the pen back."
Before I could take another sip, my phone began to vibrate again.
May you like
This time, the screen didn't show my mother's name.
It was Mia.
