fiction

Chapter 7 - The Panic Calls

On December 28th, the phone calls began.

I was sitting in the kitchen making tea when my phone vibrated across the marble island. MOM was flashing on the screen.

I answered and put it on speaker.

"Avery!" my mother screamed through the speaker, her voice shrill and laced with absolute panic. "What the hell is going on over there?! We’re at the hotel in London trying to check out and our credit cards are being declined! Every single card!"

"Hello, Mom," I said calmly. "How was Europe?"

"Don't play games with me!" she shrieked. "Your father tried to call the bank and they told him his access is suspended pending an elder fraud investigation! Did you mess with the mail? Did you do something?"

Dad’s voice boomed in the background: "Give me the phone! Avery, transfer $5,000 to my account right now! We are trapped at the airport! They won't let us board our flight without paying for the baggage fees!"

I took a slow sip of tea. "I can't do that, Dad."

"What do you mean you can't?!" Dad bellowed.

"Grandpa and I have reorganised the family affairs," I replied smoothly. "The accounts are locked. If you want to come home, I suggest you use whatever cash you have left."

"You ungrateful little brat!" Mom yelled. "We left you simple instructions! Is Theodore even alive?!"

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Grandpa Theodore leaned toward the phone. "I'm very much alive, Eleanor," he said with icy precision. "And I'll see you both in the driveway when you return."

The line went dead.

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