✽ Jason ✽
My mother didn’t ask. She summoned. Her message had come in the morning, short and clean, like she was still allowed to control my time.
✉Mother: Come home NOW. We need to talk.
No soft words. No questions. Only expectation. I went because refusal would create noise, and noise drew attention. I preferred to choose my chaos. The Harold house sat behind gates and trimmed hedges, quiet and arrogant. The driveway curved as if it didn’t believe in urgency. When I parked, a security camera tracked my car smoothly, and the front door opened before I even got out of my car. My mother stood in the entryway in a pale coat, hair perfect, eyes sharp.
“Jason,” she said, my name like it was a disappointment.
“Mother,” I replied in that same tone. She stepped aside, and the second I walke
