Arriella perched on the edge of her bed, the room dimly lit and the evening heat lingering in the air. Her thumb hovered over her phone screen for a moment before she finally pressed the Call button.
The number rang.
Once.
Twice.
Her mother answered on the third ring, her voice unusually cheerful. "Arriella, please remember to call your uncle and thank him for the money he sent, alright?"
Arriella froze.
Money?
Her heart sank slightly. She hadn't received any notification. But she took a deep breath, pushing through her surprise to focus.
"Mummy, I actually called because I need to—"
"Please, don't start," her mother interrupted sharply. "I'm in a good mood today, and I'd like to keep it that way. Your brother just got a new phone."
A new phone.
Her mind raced to process the words.
"But… how?" she asked quietly. "I thought—"
"We used the money your uncle sent. He's been complaining about his old phone for weeks. You know how boys can be. Let him enjoy this."
The words struck her like a dull blade.
She stared at her cracked screen, the very phone she had been pleading to replace for months. The phone that embarrassed her in public. The one that caused her headaches with its flickering display whenever it overheated. The phone she was enduring, day in and day out.
"So… the money was meant for me?" she managed to ask.
"Yes, it was. Your uncle specified it was for you. But you don't need anything urgently. Your brother needed it more."
And that was all.
No apology.
No hesitation.
Just a statement— as if her needs were invisible, as if she didn't matter.
Arriella swallowed hard, forcing back the sting behind her eyes.
"Mummy, I actually called to share something important," she whispered.
"I said not today!" her mother snapped. "I've made it clear. I'm happy today. No bad news, please. Call your uncle and thank him. We'll talk later."
The line went silent.
For a moment, Arriella just sat there.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Just… exhausted.
A profound kind of exhaustion.
The kind that stems from feeling unheard for far too long.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she lowered the phone. The room felt colder than before— or perhaps it was her heart shifting, learning, and rearranging.
Her family hadn't merely taken her money; they had taken her voice as well.