Chapter 5 - The Family Council in Panic
By 1:30 a.m., the rain had turned into a steady, freezing drizzle, but outside my parents' suburban home in the upscale hills of West Linn, things were far from quiet.
I knew this because my phone was still buzzing with updates, and local news crews were broadcasting live from the neighborhood cul-de-sac.
According to the live helicopter footage on KGW News, three news vans with satellite dishes were parked across my parents' driveway. Flashlights beamed against their front windows as reporters shouted questions toward the locked front door.
Inside that house, the panic must have reached apocalyptic levels.
My brother Troy was probably pacing the hardwood floors of the foyer, his expensive silk tie loosened around his neck, staring at his frozen banking apps on his smartphone. My mother, accustomed to ruling our extended family with a hand of iron and passive-aggressive guilt trips, was likely hyperventilating on the living room sofa while my father frantically dialed every lawyer whose number he had ever saved.
They were learning, for the very first time in their lives, what it felt like to be completely helpless.
My phone rang again. This time it wasn't my immediate family.
It was Aunt Linda, my mother’s sister, whom I had always gotten along with, though she lived down in Eugene.
I pressed accept.
“Amelia? Oh, sweet girl, thank God you answered,” Linda’s voice trembled through the speaker, breathless and shaken. “I’m watching the news down here. I can’t believe what I’m seeing... not just the financial stuff, but... Amelia, did they really refuse to pick you up from the airport?”
I took a slow sip of my tea, my voice remarkably steady. “Yes, Aunt Linda. Troy said they were too busy, and Mom told me I should have arranged my husband’s funeral better.”
A sharp intake of breath hissed through the phone. “My God. After you just buried James... I knew your mother and Troy were self-absorbed, but this... Amelia, are you safe? Do you need me to drive up there right now?”
“I’m safe, Linda,” I said softly. “The house is locked. James made sure of that.”
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“The news anchors read your text exchange live on air, honey,” Linda whispered in disbelief. “Every single person in the state saw how they treated you while you were carrying your husband’s ashes. Your mother’s social circle is already collapsing; people are pulling their investments out of Dad’s firm by the dozens. They’re ruined, Amelia. Absolutely ruined.”
“They chose their priorities,” I said, looking out at the dark living room where James’s photograph sat smiling in the dim light. “And I chose mine.”
