“You know?”
“Yes.”
“Then how can you do this?”
Eleanor rested one hand on the kitchen counter.
“Financial responsibility,” she said.
Her mother went completely quiet.
Eleanor continued.
“Values.”
“Do not use my words against me.”
“I’m not.
I’m applying them.”
Her mother’s voice climbed.
“You are punishing your father and me because I asked Mia to contribute to her cousin’s birthday.”
“You told a twelve-year-old that if she didn’t pay, she should not expect to be treated like family.”
“I was teaching her—”
“She worked until her hands hurt.”
“That was her choice.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
There it was again.
A child had absorbed a threat deeply enough to break open her savings and clean someone’s house, and somehow the adults responsible still saw nothing wrong.
“No,” Eleanor said.
“That was the result of what you told her.”
Her father’s voice came louder in the background.
“Give me the phone.”
A moment later, he was speaking.
“Eleanor, this has become absurd.”
“Has it?”
“You’ve made your point.
Turn the payment back on.”
“No.”
“We have commitments.”
“So do I.”
“We’re your parents.”
“And Mia is my daughter.”
Her father exhaled hard.
“This family has always supported each other.”
Eleanor looked at the banking app still open on her laptop.
“No.
I supported this family.
There’s a difference.”
He did not respond immediately.
She could almost hear him calculating the numbers.
Then he said, “What else did you cancel?”
That told her everything.
They already knew enough to be worried.
“All of it.”
“What does all of it mean?”
“Ask Heather.
Ask Leo.
You’ll all figure it out soon enough.”
She ended the call.
Within three minutes, Heather rang.
Eleanor answered because she knew exactly what the call would be about.
“Did you cancel my transfer?” Heather demanded.
“Yes.”
“You can’t be serious.”
