Maybe a few years ago, she would have argued. Raised her voice. Tried to fight for her place.
But tonight… she was too tired for anger.
Too tired for pleading.
Instead, she slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.
Rebecca frowned slightly. “What are you doing?”
Olivia didn’t answer.
She scrolled through her contacts, her fingers steady despite the storm quietly building inside her chest. Then she pressed call.
The line rang once.
Twice.
Then a voice answered.
“Daniel Hayes speaking.”
Olivia took a slow breath. “Hi, Mr. Hayes. It’s Olivia Carter. I… I think I need your help.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a shift in tone—sharper, more attentive. “Olivia? Of course. What’s going on?”
She glanced at her suitcases, then at her mother standing in the doorway.
“I’ve just been told to leave my house,” she said softly.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“I see,” Daniel replied, his voice now calm but precise. “Are you there right now?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”
The call ended.
Rebecca let out a small, impatient sigh. “Olivia, there’s no need to make this dramatic. Calling a lawyer—really?”