Chapter 1 - The Glow of the Screen
The dead silence that fell over the freshly remodeled living room was heavier than any machine press I had ever operated in Calgary. My thumb hovered over the glowing screen of my phone, the digital light casting pale, sharp reflections against my tired eyes. Selina stopped in her tracks, her hand instinctively tightening around the gold hummingbird pendant resting against her chest, while Godfrey let out a nervous, jerky laugh that died instantly in his throat. Phedra leaned heavily against my shoulder, her body trembling so violently I could feel her bones pressing through her thin, bleach-stained blouse. She didn't know what I was about to do. Nobody in this room knew the real reason I had been able to catch the last-minute flight home, or why my bank account balance wasn't just a regular worker's savings anymore.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Godfrey demanded, taking a half-step forward before catching the cold, dead look in my eyes. He swallowed hard, his designer watch flashing under the expensive recessed lighting. "You think because you bring home a few grand from some freezing metal shop up north you can come in here acting like a landlord? This house is ours. Mom put her name on the deed five years ago!"
"It's not about a few grand, Godfrey," I said, my voice unnervingly quiet, devoid of the shouting they had clearly braced themselves for. "You’ve spent four years acting like my sweat was an endless spring of free cash. You bought an auto shop. You drive an SUV that costs more than my first two cars combined. And Mom... Mom upgraded everything from the kitchen tiles to her jewelry collection."
Selina bristled, her chin jutting out with that familiar, righteous arrogance that had ruled our household since we were kids. "We worked hard to manage the property while you were freezing your hands off! If it wasn't for us, this house would have rotted into the ground! You should be thanking us for keeping things running instead of standing there glaring at your own mother like some kind of stranger!"
"Thank you," I repeated softly. "For what? For locking my wife in a storage shed? For watching her hair fall out from chemotherapy and calling her bald head an embarrassment when you have company over? For spending the money meant for her treatment on leather furniture and Scotch?"
"She brought it on herself!" Selina shrieked, her voice cracking as panic finally pierced through her defensive armor. "She was ungrateful! She complained about the bills! She wanted to waste thousands of dollars on experimental treatments that doctors said had a fifty-fifty chance of failing anyway! Why throw good money after bad when we could secure our family's future?"
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Phedra let out a soft, broken gasp beside me, burying her face in her hands. The sheer cruelty of my mother's words hung in the air like poison. I didn't yell. I didn't throw a punch. I simply tapped my screen, opened my banking app, and let the bright digital display face forward so everyone in the room could see the bold, un-debatable numbers staring back at them.
"You're right about one thing, Mom," I whispered, stepping forward into the light. "The money I've been sending wasn't just regular wages for the last six months. Two weeks ago, after a three-year workplace safety lawsuit against the plant in Calgary concluded, a settlement was finalized. One million, two hundred thousand dollars was deposited directly into my primary account."
