Downstairs, the e-bike tires were still full. Clearly, in my previous life, Mom had tampered with them while I slept, but this time she hadn’t had the chance.
Hearing chaotic footsteps echoing in the stairwell, I dared not delay. I twisted the throttle and sped out of the neighborhood.
When I reached the company, I slipped a pack of cigarettes to the security guard and pleaded repeatedly with him not to let my family in.
Even so, disaster struck during my project presentation. First, a colleague’s phone buzzed incessantly. Then my boss’s. Finally, even the client’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
Confused, the client answered immediately. “Who is this? Why do you keep calling me?”
Mom’s voice rang from the receiver. “I’m Eleanor’s mom! This child stayed up all night. This is all your fault, you heartless capitalists!”
“Eleanor must be so overworked she hasn’t even had breakfast. Let her come downstairs right now! I’m waiting outside with soy milk and fried dough sticks!”
The entire meeting room froze in stunned silence. I snatched the phone and shouted, my voice sharp with anger:
“If you interfere with my work again, from now on, consider me no longer your daughter!”