Chapter 6 - A Tone Shift
|
Carter didn't hesitate to jump straight into his cruel performance. He held the phone closer to his mouth, his tone dripping with mock arrogance.
“Hey there, old man,” Carter taunted into the speaker. “Your useless daughter is currently lying on my kitchen floor, throwing a complete temper tantrum and bleeding all over my mother’s expensive rug because she refused to cook dinner properly.”
There was a sudden, absolute silence on the other end of the line. The background noise on my father's end completely died away.
“Who is this?” my father asked. The voice was no longer that of a quiet country farmer. It was flat, measured, and freezing cold.
“It’s your son-in-law, Carter,” he sneered, glancing at his mother, who was smirking in approval. “I’m calling to tell you to come pick up your pathetic trash. She’s screaming about callin’ 911 and trying to ruin my legal career. I suggest you get your beat-up truck down to Alexandria and teach her some manners before I throw her out on the street.”
Eleanor let out a soft chuckle. “Tell him to bring a mop while he’s at it!”
My father didn't raise his voice. He didn't stutter or show anger.
“Carter,” my father said slowly, every word heavy with terrifying precision. “Are you telling me that my pregnant daughter is injured and bleeding, and you are refusing her medical attention?”
May you like
“I’m telling you she’s dramatic and worthless!” Carter barked back. “And if you think your little country bumpkin self can do anything about it, you’re dead wrong. My uncle owns the D.A.’s office here.”
“I see,” my father replied softly. “Hold the line.”
