“It wasn’t twenty-six people.”
There was a pause. A small one.
“What?” Ila said.
“It was me,” I said. “All twenty-six profiles.”
Silence.
Then Ila laughed once—sharp and disbelieving. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking,” I said. “I set them up. I paid every month. I canceled them.”
My mom’s voice came through louder now. “Paige, stop lying.”
“I’m not lying,” I said. “I’m done.”
Ila’s tone shifted quickly. “Where would you even get that kind of money?”
I almost laughed, because the answer was simple and also the answer they refused to see.
“I have a successful business,” I said. “I just don’t perform it for you.”
My mom made a noise like she’d bitten into something sour.
“This is because of yesterday,” Ila said, and now her voice was syrupy. “Paige, it was a joke.”
My mom chimed in. “You’re overreacting. Ila needs thicker skin.”
I felt something go cold in my chest. I kept my voice even.
“You told my child she’ll never have a house like you.”
“It’s the truth,” my mom snapped.
“And when Autumn looked her in the face and said, ‘You will clean dirt like your mother,’ nobody stopped her,” I continued. “You laughed. You nodded. You taught her it was normal.”
Ila scoffed. “She took it wrong.”
“She’s nine,” I said.
A pause.
Then Ila’s voice hardened. “You have to turn it back on.”
“No,” I said.
My mom’s voice sharpened like a blade. “Do you know what you’re doing to your father?”
I waited, because that was the moment I needed.
“Tell me,” I said. “What am I doing?”
Ila inhaled hard. “We can’t afford this.”
There it was again.
We.
I didn’t respond. I let the silence stretch.
Ila cursed under her breath, then said, “We’re coming over.”
The line went dead.
Derek looked up from the counter where he’d been washing dishes. He didn’t ask what happened. He could tell.
“Are they coming here?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay.”
They arrived within two hours.
My mom and Ila didn’t knock like guests. They knocked like people who expect the door to open because it always has.
Willa stayed behind me, close enough that I could feel her breath on my elbow. Derek stood back, quiet, letting me take the lead.
I opened the door.
My mom didn’t even look at my face first. She looked past me into my house like she was checking whether I’d suddenly become someone else overnight.
Ila was the one who spoke, voice too bright and too fast.
“Okay, we get it,” she said. “You have money. Congratulations. Now turn it back on.”
My mom nodded once, sharp. “This has gone far enough.”
I didn’t move out of the doorway. “No,” I said. “You don’t get to come here and give orders.”
Ila’s smile twitched. “Paige, don’t do this. It’s embarrassing.”
I stared at her. “For who?”
My mom’s patience snapped. “For your father.”
She said it like it was the final word. Like if she said, “Dad,” everything became holy and untouchable.
I kept my voice low. “Then you won’t mind if I call him right now and tell him exactly what I canceled.”
My mom’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
Ila’s head jerked up. “No.”
That one word was too quick. Too terrified.
I paused—not for effect, because my body needed a second to catch up to what I just heard.
I looked from Ila to my mom.
My mom’s face tightened. “He doesn’t need to be upset.”
“He doesn’t need to know,” Ila added, and then tried to fix it mid-sentence. “I mean, he’s already dealing with enough.”
There it was.
That was the slip—not a number, not a detail. The instinct.
Keep Dad out of it.
I felt something cold settle behind my ribs. I said very quietly, “Why would he be upset if the money was for him?”
Neither of them answered.
My mom’s mouth opened, then closed.
Ila swallowed, eyes flicking toward the driveway like she was calculating exits.
Willa’s fingers curled into my sleeve.
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