The truck horn screamed—then Victoria blinked and realized she was back. "Stop screaming, Elijah." Victoria's voice cut through the hotpot hall like a blade. "You're embarrassing yourself." Elijah leaned back in his chair and laughed loud enough for other tables to look over. "You always were a drama queen, Vicky. My mom says you owe us for the tutoring. Pay up, or I'll post that video from last week." Delilah's smile was all practiced charm. "Victoria, sweetie, don't make a scene. We can settle this quietly. You're the only adult who understands—" "I'm not your wallet," Victoria said. A hush dropped on the table. Steam from the hotpot curled between faces. Lucille's spoon clinked against her bowl. Delilah's face tightened. "You always were cold," she said to Victoria, voice rising. "You never cared for the family." "You asked me to pick up Elijah when he skipped practice, to cover his fines, to..." Victoria swiped her phone and brought up a list of transfers, timestamps precise. "Look. January 12th, three transfers. February 2nd, tuition. March 9th, last month's emergency rent. I've paid fifteen grand this year to keep you two afloat." Delilah's eyes flicked to the screen, then fastened on the nearest waiter. "You can't show that here. Give me the phone." "No." Victoria locked eyes with Delilah. "The phone stays right here. I'm done covering for entitled behavior. Elijah, you assaulted a delivery driver last