Eventually, after what seemed like hours, Aneira slowly brought the phone closer to her ear. Her hand trembled slightly, as her fingers tightened around her phone. The silence on the line wasn't peaceful, it was the kind that dragged the seconds into hours. Her chest felt heavy, she was breathing heavily.
"What do you want?" Her voice wasn't heavy with rage. No, it was too calm… too too calm. The quiet kind of anger that came from months of being hurt by someone you once called home. "How did you get my number?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end.
"What do you mean by those questions you asked?" Camilla's voice broke through the phone, too familiar, yet now sounding like a distant stranger. "Am I not your mother? You didn't even bother to care about how I would feel after what you did."
Aneira's lips parted slightly. That voice… that tone. It still tried to hold authority over her, as if the title mother was a shield that could protect Camilla from accountability.
