Page 29 of Faultlines

“Mom, are you coming to get me?”

“I’m going to call your dad. I have a meeting at the mayor’s office.”

“Okay, whatever.”

“Ellie, I can’t miss this meeting.”

Before I can say her name again, the line goes dead.

I dial Ethan. He answers on the second ring. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I blow out a deep breath. “Ellie pulled a fire alarm.”

The silence that follows is almost impressive.

“She did what?”

“I know.”

“How?”

“Apparently, she tripped.”

After a pause, a disbelieving laugh crackles through the phone.

“This isn’t funny.” I pull at the loose thread on my cuff until it snaps.

“It kind of is.”

“She’s upset.”

That sobers him. “I’ll go get her.”

I glance toward the hallway, where Marisol is waiting for me. “Thank you. I have a meeting with the major’s office.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“Thank you.”

I toss my phone on the table a little harder than I intend.

The next morning, I’m staring at a spreadsheet when my phone buzzes with a notification from the family group chat Sloane insisted on creating.

Group Therapy Without a Therapist

Ellie: Who dares disobey this queen!

Of all the roles, my daughter lands the one famous for screaming and ordering executions. Nobody finds this concerning except me?

Sloane: To be fair, she also gets the best costume. Tiny tyrants always do.

Not helping.

Peter: Off with their heads!

Ellie: At least Grandpa supports me.

Another dozen notifications roll in—memes from Sloane, a GIF from Reid, and a horse video from Lucy.