Chapter 4 - The Unanswered Calls
The digital clock on my bedside table glowed 2:15 AM.
I lay awake in the quiet darkness of my apartment, staring up at the ceiling. My phone rested peacefully on the nightstand, completely silent, face down. I hadn't turned it off, nor had I blocked their numbers. I wanted them to feel the agonizing weight of every single unanswered ring.
Outside, the snow continued to fall softly against the windowpane, blanketing the city in a serene, peaceful white. It was a stark contrast to the storm currently raging inside my family's home.
My phone suddenly vibrated against the wooden surface, buzzing with a sharp, insistent hum.
I didn't move immediately. I let it ring out its full cycle.
Missed Call: Dad.
Five seconds later, it buzzed again.
Missed Call: Marcus.
Then came a text message from Chloe: Please, please pick up. We need to talk. We made a huge mistake. Dad wants to change the will back. Whatever you want, you can have it. Just please talk to us.
I stared at the screen, a cold, bitter smile touching my lips. How predictable. For forty years, whenever they broke something, they expected me to step in with my checkbook and my patience to glue the pieces back together. They thought money could buy absolution, that a simple apology and a hastily retracted will could wipe away a lifetime of exploitation, disrespect, and calculated cruelty.
My phone buzzed a fourth time. This time, it was my mother.
I finally picked up the phone, swiped the screen, and brought it to my ear. I didn't say a word. I simply waited.
"Hello? Hello?!" My mother’s voice was breathless, ragged with panic and exhaustion. "Oh, thank God. Please... please pick up, honey."
"I'm listening," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion, calm and steady.
There was a frantic shuffling on the other end before Dad’s voice broke through, trembling with a desperate authority he no longer possessed. "Son... listen to us. We made a terrible mistake tonight. The will... it was a misunderstanding. A bad joke orchestrated by Marcus and Chloe. Your mother and I never truly agreed to it."
I let out a low, dry chuckle. "A bad joke? Dad, you handed me the papers yourself. You told me straight to my face that my brother and sister needed the inheritance more because I was 'independent'."
"I was coerced!" Dad stammered, clutching at any excuse. "They pressured me for months! But it doesn't matter now. We'll rewrite it right now. First thing in the morning, we'll go to the lawyer's office and make you sole heir. Everything we have will be yours."
"I don't want your money, Dad," I replied softly. "And that's the part you still don't understand."
"Then what do you want?!" Marcus shouted in the background, snatching the phone away from his father. "Do you want to see us ruined?! Do you want to see your own family destroyed over some paperwork?!"
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"You destroyed yourselves a long time ago," I said coldly. "I just stopped hiding the wreckage."
With that, I hung up the phone and switched it off entirely. The room fell back into a profound, heavy silence. They had hours until eight o'clock. Hours to realize that no amount of begging, pleading, or bribing could stop the clock from ticking down to their absolute undoing.
