Chapter 2 - The Midnight Ultimatum
The screen of Daniel’s phone illuminated his face in the dark, casting sharp shadows across the bedroom floor where Valentina still sat hugging her knees.
It was twelve-forty in the morning.
Normal families were asleep. Normal grandparents were fast asleep. But when the video call connected, the background on the other end wasn’t a dark bedroom—it was a brightly lit living room.
My mother-in-law, Renata, appeared on the screen. She was wearing her silk robe, holding a cup of chamomile tea, and looking entirely too awake for someone who supposedly went to bed hours ago. Beside her, half-visible on the couch, sat my father-in-law, Arthur, scrolling through his tablet.
Renata didn’t even look sleepy. She looked irritated.
“Daniel?” her voice crackled through the small speaker, sharp and piercing in the quiet room. “Do you have any idea what time it is? Why are you calling now? If this is about Mateo’s birthday party next weekend, I told you—we are handling the catering, and you don’t need to—”
“Mother,” Daniel interrupted.
His voice wasn’t raised. It didn’t tremble. It was flat, cold, and heavy with a strange kind of finality that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
Renata paused, her teacup hovering an inch from her lips. “Don’t use that tone with me. What is the matter with you?”
Daniel didn't answer right away. Instead, he slowly turned the phone around, aiming the camera directly at Valentina.
Our daughter sat there amidst the rolls of wrapping paper, the tape, and the open gift box containing her silver MacBook. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face tear-stained, and the oversized sleeves of her hoodie swallowed her small hands.
“Do you recognize this, Mother?” Daniel asked quietly.
Renata’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, her chin tilted up just a fraction higher.
“Oh, so she’s finally doing it,” Renata said, taking a sip of her tea as if she were commenting on the weather. “Good. It’s about time that child learned the value of family. Mateo has been crying for a laptop for months for his digital art classes, and what does Valentina need it for? Editing silly little videos of stuffed animals? Honestly, Daniel, you and your wife spoil that girl far too much. It’s unhealthy.”
My blood boiled. I took a step forward, ready to snatch the phone out of my husband's hand and give my mother-in-law a piece of my mind that she would never forget, but Daniel raised his left hand, signaling me to stay back.
His eyes never left the screen.
“She is nine years old, Mother,” Daniel said, his voice dropping an octave. “And we spent five months saving every extra dollar we had so she could have that computer for her birthday. It was her gift. Not yours to give away.”
“It’s just a material object!” Renata snapped back, slamming her teacup down onto the glass coffee table hard enough that the liquid sloshed over the rim. “Family comes first! Mateo is the eldest grandson of this family! He carries the family name! He needs it for his future, whereas Valentina is just playing around! And frankly, if she had any respect for the people who raised you, she would have handed it over willingly without running to her mother to complain!”
“She didn’t run to her anywhere,” Daniel said coldly. “I found her. Because you terrified her.”
“I didn't terrify anyone!” Renata scoffed, waving a manicured hand dismissively. “I taught her a lesson about generosity. I told her that if she wouldn’t share with her cousin, she didn’t deserve to call me Grandma. It’s called tough love. Kids these days are far too selfish, and it’s your fault for coddling her!”
Arthur finally looked up from his tablet, clearing his throat. “Now, Daniel, listen to your mother. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. Mateo’s feelings were hurt because Valentina showed off her new toy at Sunday dinner. It’s only right that peace is restored. Bring the laptop over tomorrow morning. We’ll tell Mateo it’s from all of us.”
I stared at the screen in absolute disbelief. The sheer entitlement radiating from both of them was suffocating. They spoke about our daughter’s property as if it were community property belonging to the entire bloodline, subject to their royal decree.
I looked at Daniel, wondering how he was going to respond to this blatant display of narcissism.
For a long, agonizing moment, Daniel said nothing. He just stared at the screen, looking at the two people who had raised him.
Then, a strange, bitter smile touched the corners of his mouth.
“Peace,” Daniel repeated softly. “You want peace, Dad?”
“Yes, of course we want peace,” Arthur grunted. “Stop being dramatic.”
“Alright,” Daniel said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Let’s talk about peace. And let’s talk about family.”
He leaned closer to the camera, the blue light of the screen reflecting in his unblinking eyes.
“Mom, Dad... do you remember the summer of nineteen-ninety-eight?”
On the screen, Renata froze. The color drained from her face so fast that even in the harsh indoor lighting, her skin turned a sickly, chalky gray. Arthur dropped his tablet onto the rug with a dull thud.
“What... what are you talking about?” Renata stammered, her voice suddenly losing its iron-clad authority, replaced by a jittery, nervous high pitch. “What kind of nonsense are you bringing up at one in the morning?”
“Nineteen-ninety-eight,” Daniel repeated, ignoring her question completely. “The year Uncle Richard died. The year Grandma Clara left her estate to be split equally among all her grandchildren. Or... wait. Was it split equally?”
The room fell into a silence so absolute you could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator down the hall.
Valentina stopped crying, looking back and forth between her father and the screen in confusion.
I held my breath. In all our years of marriage, Daniel had never once spoken about his uncle’s estate or that specific year with this kind of tone.
May you like
“Daniel,” Arthur warned, his voice shaking slightly as he leaned toward the camera. “Disconnect this call right now. You are tired. Go to bed.”
“No, Dad,” Daniel said clearly. “I think it’s time we finally talked about the family secret. The one you and Mother buried so deep you thought it would stay dead forever.”
