“Because the global banking system invented digital ledger statements, Brooke,” I said loudly enough for her to hear.
Mom’s voice took on a wounded, theatrical flutter. “So, I see. Now we are keeping a petty scorecard of our debts.”
“No, Mom,” I said softly, the anger draining out of me, leaving only a cold resolve. “I am not keeping score. I am simply stopping the game.”
That was the fundamental shift. I wasn’t demanding she wire me the thousands of dollars in arrears. I wasn’t marching over to sever the gas line. I wasn’t even blinded by rage anymore.
I was,, refusing to financially subsidize and maintain a fortress where my own children could be banished to the driveway.
“Call the emergency dispatch company tonight,” I instructed.
Then, I pressed the red button and ended the call.
Chapter 3: The VIP Delusion and the Propane Protocol
At precisely 8:12 AM the following morning, my phone chimed. It was Mom.
