Diana played the last voice message from Mrs. Linda. Her mother sounded frantic—but not once did she ask if Diana was safe. Not once did she ask if she was okay.
“You have no right to abandon us like this,” her mother’s voice snapped. “Melissa couldn’t go to work, the kids trashed everything. I had to explain to my friend that my own daughter left me stranded.”
The word “abandon” echoed in Diana’s mind.
She hadn’t abandoned anyone. She had no children. That house had never truly been her home—it had been a place where she was used, drained, and dismissed.
She typed a short reply: “I didn’t abandon anyone. You told me to leave if I couldn’t pay rent. So I left.”
Five seconds later, Melissa called.
Diana answered.
What appeared on the screen looked like total collapse. One of the kids was screaming in the background. The kitchen was buried in trash bags, dirty dishes, and spilled cereal. Mrs. Linda sat at the table rubbing her temples, hair disheveled. Melissa held the phone, furious.
“Look what you did!” she shouted, turning the camera toward the mess. “Mom almost fainted from stress. I haven’t worked in two days. This is your fault!”