For three days, the house existed in a state of suspended animation. The phones remained off, the curtains drawn. David moved through the rooms like a caged tiger, his silence more terrifying than any outburst. Clara floated between the kitchen and her bedroom, her face permanently etched with a quiet despair. Dakshin watched it all from a distance, the foundations of his world turning to sand beneath his feet.
On the fourth day, the landline phone, the old one they never used, rang. Its shrill sound was a gunshot in the silent house.
Everyone froze.
David stood from his armchair, his movements slow and deliberate. He walked to the phone, his back to his family. He picked up the receiver.
"What." The word was not a question. It was a block of ice.
Dakshin couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, only the faint, frantic buzz of a voice trying to explain.
Then, the dam broke.
"Do not ever come to my house again!" David roared, his voice exploding through the stillness with such force that Clara flinched. "My doors are closed to you! Do you hear me? Closed until my death!"
He was pacing now, the phone cord whipping behind him, a man possessed.
"You all back-stabbed me! I told you before! I told you all! We reconcile with him TOGETHER, or not at all! That was the plan! That was the only way!" Spittle flew from his lips. "But you... you snakes! You did it separately! You left me alone to look like a fool! A tyrant! You went behind my back and now you have the nerve to call me?"
The voice on the other end tried to speak again, but David was beyond listening.
"You are dead to me! All of you! You are not my family! You are traitors!"
With a final, guttural shout, he slammed the phone back into its cradle with a crack that sounded like breaking bone. The ensuing silence was absolute, heavier and more profound than before.
He stood there, his shoulders heaving, his back still turned to them. The logical, calculating patriarch was gone. In his place stood a man stripped bare—a king who had just discovered his entire court had betrayed him, his kingdom vanished in a puff of smoke. He had drawn his line in the sand, and in his rage, he had exiled everyone, including himself.