Chapter 2
The harsh glare of the cell phone screen illuminated the terrified expression on David’s face. He snatched the device off the table as if it were a burning ember, sliding his thumb across the glass to dismiss the notification. But Mama had already seen it. Her sharp gaze narrowed, shifting instantly from her defiant daughter to her visibly shaken son. The domestic battle line had just been redrawn, expanding from a bitter argument about grandchildren and domestic expectations into something far more financial and sinister.
"What was that?" Mama demanded, her voice cutting through the stifling tension like a razor. "Who is texting you about papers at this hour, David? Look at me when I am speaking to your father's memory, not your screen!"
David swallowed hard, his throat dry. He adjusted his black button-down shirt, feeling the sweat bead along his trimmed beard. He forced a strained, unconvincing smile, desperate to defuse the ticking time bomb sitting across from him.
"It is nothing, Mama," David lied smoothly, though his voice betrayed a subtle tremor. "Just work. The architectural firm is handling a late-night zoning dispute for a commercial client downtown. You know how unpredictable real estate developers can be."
Maya let out a short, cold laugh that lacked any humor. She picked up a fried plantain with her fingers, ignoring the silver silverware entirely, and took a slow bite. She chewed deliberately, maintaining direct eye contact with her husband, letting him know without a single spoken word that she saw right through his pathetic deception.
"An architectural dispute at nine o'clock at night?" Maya asked sweetly, her voice dripping with venom. "Strange. I thought your firm's commercial division was liquidated three months ago, David. Or did you forget that I am still the legal administrator of your corporate tax filings?"
The color drained entirely from David’s face. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. Mama slowly turned her head, her purple gele rustling as she locked her piercing, betrayed eyes onto her son. The illusion of David’s competence and filial piety was crumbling in real time, exposing a foundation built entirely on lies, debt, and betrayal.
"You lied to me?" Mama whispered, her voice dangerously quiet. "You told me the business was thriving. You told me you were expanding into the mainland."
"Mama, please, let us not discuss business at the dinner table," David pleaded, his hands trembling as he pushed his plate away. "Maya is just trying to provoke you. She has always resented my devotion to this family."
"Do not you dare turn this around on me," Maya snapped, her calm facade finally cracking into sharp, aggressive fury. She slammed her glass down, water sloshing over the rim. "Your son is bankrupt, Mama. He lost the family house six months ago in a poker den, and he used your ancestral land as collateral behind your back!"
Mama gasped, clutching her gold necklace as if she were having a heart attack. She swayed in her chair, staring at David with a look of absolute horror.
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"Is this true?" Mama choked out, her breath hitching.
David stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze, while his phone buzzed again, this time displaying a photo of the ancestral land with a foreclosure notice stamped across it.
