“Dad… finals week—” My voice cracked.
“No excuses. Heather’s wedding is May 15. You’ll arrive three days early for everything. Non-negotiable.”
I clenched the railing until my knuckles blanched. “That’s the same week as my project presentation. My graduation—”
“Stop making this about you. This is family. If you don’t show up, don’t expect another cent.”
The wind stung my face. His words cut deeper.
“Dad, I’ve worked so hard—”
“You think your little projects matter more than real life. This is real. Grow up.”
Click.
I stared at my dark screen as voices and laughter blurred around me. A Frisbee arced across the lawn. A professor hurried by with an armful of books. Life kept moving. Mine tilted.