Page 2 — The Call That Told Me Everything
Seven days after the wedding I wasn’t invited to, my phone rang.
Lena.
She didn’t bother with small talk.
“Renata! The rent hasn’t been paid.”
Not “Hi.”
Not “How are you?”
Not “I’m sorry.”
Just: the rent.
Like I was their accounting department.
I let the silence stretch just long enough for her to get uncomfortable.
