Chapter 3: The Digital Guillotine
Chapter 3: The Digital Guillotine
The arcade was a chaotic symphony of flashing neon lights, ringing bells, and the greasy scent of pepperoni pizza. Within minutes, Lucas and Mia were laughing, sprinting between Skee-Ball machines and collecting prize tickets, the blue birdhouse resting safely on our plastic booth's table.
I sat in the corner, the initial adrenaline fading into a cold, calculated fury. My phone buzzed repeatedly with texts from Aunt Carol and Uncle Brett. I ignored them completely. I thought about my father's lowered eyes, Diane's folded arms, and a lifetime of being told to "be the bigger person"—which I now realized always meant making myself smaller so Diane could feel superior.
At precisely 7:48 p.m., I opened my banking app. The reservation at Bellissimo was under my name, backed by an $800 non-refundable deposit charged to my premium corporate card.
My thumb hovered over the glowing screen. If my children and I weren't welcome at the table, neither was my money.
I tapped a single button.
May you like
Freeze Card.
A green checkmark confirmed the lock instantly. I placed the phone face-down beside a pile of arcade tickets. It wasn't about revenge; it was about accountability.
