Arthur started screaming, cursing, calling me every vile name in the book, and then, finally, when he realized the insults weren’t working, he resorted to pathetic, groveling begging.
“Maya, please! I’m sorry!” he wept into the phone. “I’m so sorry for the slap! I lost my temper! Please, I’m your father! We don’t have that kind of money! You can’t let us be homeless!”
I listened to his tears, and the wailing of the golden child in the background as her status symbol was literally dragged down the street.
Chapter 5: Lesson for the Golden Child
“Are you sorry for slapping me, Arthur?” I asked, my voice dropping to a harsh, unforgiving whisper. “Or are you just sorry that your personal wallet finally snapped shut?”
The silence on his end was an acknowledging, damning confession.
“If my credit card was still active today, if the Wi-Fi was still running, and the mortgage was paid,” I mocked him, “would you ever, in a million years, have called to apologize for putting your hands on me? Or would you have just expected me to cook Sunday dinner like nothing happened?”
He couldn’t answer. He knew the truth. They only cared because the money had stopped.
“Maya, baby, please,” my mother grabbed the phone, crying hysterically. “We’ll make it up to you! We’ll make Chloe apologize for not letting you use the car! Just please, fix the house! We’re too old to start over!”
I felt a brief flicker of pity, but I immediately snuffed it out. They had made their bed, and now they had to lie in it.
“You always said Chloe was the obedient one,” I said, my voice hardening. “You always said she was reasonable, and talented, and had so much vision for her life. Good.”
“What do you mean?” my mother sniffled.
