“I am not asking for your permission, Leona, because I am already on my way to your apartment with the children and Mom gave me her spare key.”
That message flashed across my phone at four minutes past midnight and instantly chased away any hope of sleep while the cold light of the screen illuminated my dark bedroom.
I was lying in my bed in the Westover Hills neighborhood of Richmond, just fifteen minutes from the regional airport, listening to the soft patter of an April rain against the windowpane.
The hum of the ceiling fan was the only other sound in the room until my own breathing became heavy and labored as I processed the sheer audacity of my sister’s words.
Sienna never actually asked for anything in her life because she preferred to announce her intentions as if the rest of the world were merely background characters in her personal drama.
Whenever she needed money, she simply stated the amount she required, and whenever she needed a favor, she dictated the timeline without considering anyone else’s schedule.
She moved through the world with the insolent confidence of someone who had been allowed to break the rules for decades without ever facing a single consequence for her actions.
I stared at the glowing text for a moment before I typed back a response that consisted of only five firm words.
“I am not available tonight.”
