Chapter 3 - The Midnight Delegation
The knocking didn't stop. It rattled the frame, accompanied by muffled shouting from the hallway.
"Elina! Open this door right now! I know you're in there!"
It wasn't my parents. It was Jessica, my sister-in-law, her voice sharp and shrill with panic, heavily pregnant and clearly furious.
I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open just enough to block the threshold. Jessica stood in the narrow hallway, her coat clutched tightly over her protruding stomach, flanked by my aunt Martha, who had driven them over in her beat-up minivan.
"Are you insane?" Jessica shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at my face. "Lucas is in jail! On Christmas week! With a baby coming any day! What is wrong with you?"
"What’s wrong with me?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm as I leaned against the doorframe. "Your husband stole my car, and my father forged my signature to give it to him. Why are you here yelling at me instead of asking why they thought they could commit felonies?"
Aunt Martha stepped forward, her face twisted in righteous family indignation. "Family helps family, Elina! You have a good job, you live alone, you don't have mouths to feed. Lucas has responsibilities! Your father only tried to fix a situation because you were being cold-hearted about sharing!"
"Sharing?" I repeated, letting out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Stealing my property and committing identity fraud isn't sharing, Aunt Martha. It’s a crime."
"Don't you use that tone with me," Martha snapped, raising a hand as if she were still dealing with ten-year-old me. "You’ve always been selfish, ever since you got that corporate job and started thinking you were better than us. You think because you buy your own things you're untouchable? You’re ruining your brother’s life over a piece of metal!"
"If his life is ruined, it’s because my father and my brother chose to break the law," I said, my patience wearing dangerously thin. "Now, I suggest you both leave before I call the police and report you for trespassing."
Jessica stared at me, her eyes welling with dramatic, practiced tears. "If Lucas misses the birth of our child because of a record, I will never forgive you. You’re a monster, Elina."
"Then consider us even," I said, and closed the door firmly in their faces, sliding the security chain into place.
May you like
I stood in the quiet hallway for a long moment, listening to their angry footsteps stomp down the stairs. The house was finally quiet again. But as I walked back into the kitchen, the red light of my landline answering machine—and the silent, heavy weight of my phone—reminded me that the war had only just begun.
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