“Execute the orders, Mr. Graves. Today,” I commanded. By 3:00 PM that afternoon, the bank had processed the cancellations.
By 4:00 PM, the elite private sports academy notified Deandra via email that the tuition check had bounced. They told her Cooper was formally disenrolled, effective immediately.
At 5:00 PM, my father finally called me from a new number I hadn’t blocked yet. I answered it calmly.
“Jemma,” my father said. His voice was shaking, and the arrogant patriarch was gone, replaced by a terrified old man.
“Jemma, what is going on? The bank just called me and said the mortgage payment was cancelled,” he stammered.
“And Deandra is screaming that Cooper got kicked out of school! What are you doing?!” he demanded.
I took a slow, deep breath. The air in my lungs felt incredibly clean for the first time in years.
“I’m not overreacting, Dad,” I quoted him softly, throwing his exact words back into his face.
“You just got the wind knocked out of you. Tell Mom you’ll be fine in a day or two and just walk it off,” I said. Then I hung up the phone.