Chapter 3 - The First Warning
Two weeks passed in blissful silence. I blocked my mother’s number and redirected my father’s emails to a spam folder. I needed time to breathe, to remember who Emily Carter was when she wasn't carrying the weight of three grown adults on her shoulders.
Then, on a Friday afternoon, my phone rang from an unrecognized landline. Thinking it was a hospital coordinator calling about an extra shift, I answered.
"Emily?"
It was my father’s voice. It sounded older, rougher, and stripped of the easy arrogance he usually carried.
"Dad," I said, my voice completely flat. "I'm at work."
"Emily, what is going on with the accounts?" he asked, trying to sound authoritative, though I could hear the underlying panic. "The mortgage company called this morning. They said the payment was declined. And the internet is off. Your mother can't access her tablet, and Jason is throwing a fit because his card was declined at the grocery store."
"I don't live there anymore, Dad," I said, leaning against the nurses' station counter. "Why would I pay the mortgage for a house I was kicked out of?"
"You can't just stop paying!" Frank stammered. "We’re your family! We built this life together. Your mother was just upset that morning, she didn't mean—"
"She told me to leave and never come back," I interrupted. "And you stood there and said nothing. You’ve been using my money to restore a motorcycle while telling me I live for free. If you want the mortgage paid, I suggest you sell the bike. Or better yet, tell Jason to get a job."
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"Emily, if we miss another payment, the bank will initiate foreclosure!" he yelled. "We have thirty days!"
"Then I suggest you start packing," I said, and hung up the phone.
