PART 2

The next morning, when I turned it back on, the screen looked like my family had mistaken desperation for affection. There were missed calls from Mom, Dad, Allison, Tyler, and even Allison’s husband, who had never texted me unless he needed a discount code or help with a spreadsheet.

The group chat had become a waterfall of my name. Their tone had shifted so quickly from anger to fear that I almost laughed—until I remembered why it was happening.

Allison’s first message said, Why does my daycare account say payment method removed?

Mom wrote, Your father’s insurance premium declined. Call me now.

Dad wrote, This is childish.

Tyler added, My loan autopay bounced. What the hell did you do?

I sat at the kitchen table while Mark poured coffee. The Mother’s Day flowers still sat wrapped by the door. For the first time in years, I did not feel that old instinct to rush in and fix everything before someone else felt uncomfortable.

Mark read the messages over my shoulder and gently placed his hand on mine.