Chapter 3 - Cutting the Lifeline
The next morning, I didn’t call my mother. I didn’t text Kendra. Instead, I made three phone calls. The first was to a high-powered real estate attorney. The second was to a commercial business lawyer. The third was to a local moving company.
At 10:00 AM, my mother texted me: “We need $1,200 for the homeowner’s insurance premium. Send it today so there’s no lapse.”
For the first time in my life, I replied with a single word: “No.”
Three seconds later, my phone rang. I declined it.
Then Kendra called. I declined it.
A barrage of texts followed. “What is wrong with you?” Kendra wrote. “Mom is panicking! You can’t just ignore her!” My mother wrote: “If you are still throwing a tantrum over last night, grow up. We did you a favor. Now send the money.”
I smiled. It was a cold, humorless expression. I replied to both of them in a group chat: “I am terminating all financial support effective immediately. Do not contact me unless it is through my legal counsel.”
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Within an hour, I had Charlotte’s things packed. We were moving out of our rented townhouse—which was only three blocks from my mother’s place—and moving into a gorgeous, sunlit apartment across the city, closer to a fantastic new private kindergarten I had just enrolled her in.
They wanted to teach my daughter about consequences? It was time they learned the definition.
