Chapter 5 - The Emergency Meeting
Aunt Carol’s suburban home sat at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac in Westchester. At seven o’clock that evening, four cars were parked in the driveway.
Inside, the living room was tense. My mother was pacing across the Persian rug, clutching a glass of white wine. Dad was sitting on the sofa looking grim, while Brittany was furiously tapping on her phone, complaining about her canceled subscription services.
"She’s just reacting emotionally," Mom declared, waving her glass. "Megan has always had an oversensitive streak. Once she realizes how much this hurts the family's standing, she’ll fall back into place. She always does."
"She canceled my phone plan, Mom!" Brittany whined. "My service drops to 3G at midnight if the bill isn't updated! How am I supposed to run my business?"
"I’ll speak to her husband," Dad grunted. "Ethan is a sensible man. He knows family obligation."
The front doorbell rang.
Aunt Carol stood up to answer it. "That must be the pizza delivery."
She pulled the heavy oak door open—and froze.
Standing on the porch was not a delivery driver. It was me, dressed in a sharp blazer, holding a black leather briefcase. Beside me stood Ethan, his expression unreadable and firm.
"Megan?" Aunt Carol stammered, stepping back. "What are you doing here?"
I walked right past her into the living room, my heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. The chatter in the room died instantly. My mother stopped pacing, her wine glass hovering mid-air. Brittany glared at me from the armchair.
"Megan," Mom said, quickly recovering her composure and putting on a fake, motherly smile. "Well, I’m glad you came to your senses and decided to join us. We were just discussing how to handle this misunderstanding."
"It’s not a misunderstanding, Susan," I said calmly, deliberately using her first name instead of 'Mom.'
My father stood up, his brows furrowing. "Show some respect to your mother, Megan."
"Respect is earned, Richard," I replied, pulling a thick stack of printed papers out of my briefcase and setting them forcefully on the coffee table. "And as of two o'clock yesterday afternoon, every ounce of respect I had for anyone in this room was erased."
Brittany rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go. The drama queen act because we left your little party thirty minutes early."
"Ten minutes," I corrected her, turning my gaze toward my sister. "Ten minutes, Brittany. And you didn't leave because you had an emergency. You left to tour a country club."
Mom’s face went pale. "Who told you that?"
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I reached into my bag, pulled out the printed screenshots of the Hayes Inner Circle group chat, and tossed them onto the table directly in front of my father.
"Your shadow chat was very informative," I said quietly.
