“I picked up. ‘WHAT THE HELL DID YOU think you were doing?’ I hiss, stepping away from the crowd of parents and kids, trying to keep my voice low. I’m standing next to a table of cupcakes, heart pounding like a drumline.
His mother’s voice crackles through the speaker. ‘We’re moving in. You knew this was happening, dear.’
‘Sweetheart, this isn’t a negotiation,’ she replies. ‘We’re already inside. We’ve set up in the master. Jack said it was fine.’
I nearly choke. I spin around, scanning for my son, who’s halfway up a rope wall, laughing, oblivious to the chaos unraveling at home. I feel like screaming, but I force myself to breathe. Slowly. Calmly.
‘Get out of my house,’ I say. ‘Now.’
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