My Family Toasted

I told them, the dining room stayed silent long enough for the candles to start feeling loud.

My father’s mouth opened, then closed.

Preston reached for my phone.

I moved it before he touched it.

“Don’t,” I said.

His face flushed. “What the hell is this?”

“A closing notice.”

“You expect us to believe you have sixty-eight million dollars?”

“No,” I said. “I continue reading …