Chapter 3 - The Cold Morning After
The next morning, I woke up at 7:00 AM in my new downtown apartment. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed a beautiful view of the city skyline. The coffee maker I had brought with me brewed a perfect cup of espresso.
I sat on my new plush sofa, pulled out my tablet, and opened the smart-home dashboard for my parents' house. Because I had installed the smart thermostat, the smart locks, and the security cameras, I still had administrative access to the master hub via my phone.
Right on cue, at 6:01 AM, the status of the thermostat changed from Cooling to Offline.
The power had been cut.
I poured my coffee and waited. Ten minutes later, my phone began to vibrate.
Cullen Whitmore calling.
I let it ring. It went to voicemail.
Thirty seconds later, another call. Vera Whitmore.
I declined it.
Then came the text messages.
Father: Hannah, the power is out. Did you forget to pay the electric bill before you left? Call me immediately.
Mother: Hannah! It is freezing in the house—wait, no, the AC is off and it’s getting incredibly hot. The internet isn't working either. I can't check my email. What did you do?
I took a slow sip of my coffee. I could picture it perfectly: my father standing by the breaker box in the garage, flipping switches in a blind panic, sweat pouring down his face as the July heat quickly began to bake the house. My mother pacing the kitchen, waving her hands, screaming that her phone didn't have Wi-Fi.
At 7:45 AM, my phone rang again. This time it was Mason. I decided to answer.
"Hannah! What the hell is going on?" Mason yelled into the receiver. I could hear loud voices in the background—my mother was crying, and my father was cursing in the distance. "I just got to the house with Chloe and the U-Haul truck, and the place is a tomb! There’s no electricity, no water, nothing! Mom says you did this!"
"Good morning, Mason," I said cheerfully. "Happy Tuesday."
"Don't 'good morning' me! Did you cut off the power? Are you that petty because we asked you to move out?"
"I didn't cut off anything, Mason. I simply canceled my accounts. I don't live there anymore, remember? Why would I pay for utilities in a house I don't occupy? That would be... what was the word Mother used? Oh, right. 'Selfish.'"
"You can't just cancel the utilities! There’s a pregnant woman here! Chloe needs to pee and the toilets won't flush because the water pump is off!" Mason sounded frantic, his usual arrogant tone completely shattered.
"Then I suggest Dad calls the utility companies and opens an account in his name," I replied smoothly. "Of course, they’ll probably require a hefty deposit since his credit score is in the mid-500s, and it takes about three to five business days to restore service. But hey, that's what men building families do, right? You figure it out."
"Hannah, you bitch—"
I hung up.
I immediately opened my laptop and went to the smart-home hub. I initiated a remote hard wipe of the entire system. The smart locks, the thermostat, the security cameras—all of them flashed Factory Reset. They were now completely locked out of their own smart devices, unable to even re-program the front door lock without the master administrative codes.
But the real show hadn't even started yet.
At 9:00 AM, I received an automated email alert from my business bank account. It was a notification from the third-party mortgage servicer.
May you like
Notification: Third-party payer agreement successfully terminated for Loan #8841. The primary account holders (Cullen and Vera Whitmore) have been notified via certified mail and email that full payment responsibility has reverted to them.
I smiled. The fuse was lit. The explosion was imminent.
