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Chapter 3: The Empty Chair

Back at the house on Oak Street, the dining room was heavy with an uncomfortable silence.

The roasted turkey sat in the center of the wooden table, half-carved. Patricia sat near the head of the table, her beige sleeveless blouse immaculate, picking at her salad with a silver fork. Toby, twelve years old, looked back and forth between his parents, sensing the storm without fully understanding its origin.

David walked back into the room, his face pale, his hands buried deep in his khaki pockets. He sat down heavily in his chair at the head of the table, looking at the empty place setting opposite him where his mother usually sat.

"Did she get into a cab?" Patricia asked, her voice low and tight, lacking any genuine concern.

"Yes," David replied quietly. "She left."

"Well, she’ll be back by Sunday," Patricia said, taking a sip of iced tea. "She has nowhere else to go. All her things are in the guest room downstairs. Once she realizes how expensive a hotel is, she’ll come home and we can smooth this over."

"Mom isn't broke, Patricia," David said, turning his head to look at his wife. "Her pension goes into her private account every month. We’ve just been... handling the household expenses through her debit card."

"Because she lives here!" Patricia countered sharply, leaning in so the children wouldn't hear. "She eats our food, she uses our utilities—"

"She cooks all our food, Patricia!" Chloe’s voice cut across the table like a whip.

Patricia froze, turning to glare at her daughter. "Chloe, watch your tone."

"No," Chloe said, standing up from her chair, her hands trembling with emotion. "Grandma cleans this entire house every single day. She does your laundry, she picks Toby up from soccer practice, and she pays for the groceries! You guys treated her like a servant, and now you're mad because she stopped letting you!"

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"Chloe, go to your room," David commanded, though his voice lacked conviction.

Chloe picked up her phone from the table, glared at her parents with disappointment, and walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing loudly up the stairs.

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