Grace's POV
Through my storm of emotions, I turned my anger inward. "What's wrong with you, Grace? How could you let your own sister stomp on your dignity like that? When will you finally stop letting her walk all over you?"
The truth hit me hard—Amara's appetite for destruction had no limits. She'd keep demanding more, dangling our mother's fragile health like a weapon over my head forever. Only one strategy could counter her vicious games: calling Mom directly.
I scrubbed the tears from my cheeks. Summoning what little courage I had left, I grabbed my phone and scrolled to Mom's number.
My heart hammered against my ribs with each ring, the sound so thunderous I swore I could hear it echoing in my ears.
When the call finally connected, Mom's voice nearly made me jump out of my skin.
——
"Morning, sweetie. What's the matter? You never call unless something's wrong," Ramirez's worried tone filtered through the speaker.
