course.
Not the fact that she had told her daughter to disappear forever.
Not the fact that I had left.
The wedding.
Then came another message.
“Your card isn’t working.”
I deleted it.
Another voicemail arrived.
“Your father needs to pay the caterer.”
Deleted.
Then:
“Why did you cancel the hotel reservations?”
Deleted.
Then:
“Call me immediately.”
Deleted.
Finally, Madison sent a text.
You are being unbelievably childish.
I stared at it for several seconds.
Then I typed:
You told me to leave your lives. I’m respecting your wishes.
I
