Chapter 3

I found Liam on Venmo later that day, his profile picture matching the kind face from the coffee shop.

The coffee and bagel were $4.25. I sent him $10.

"Thanks again for saving me at The Daily Grind! - Emily C." I typed in the note.

A small gesture, trying to reclaim a tiny piece of normalcy.

The reply came quickly. "No problem at all, Emily! Glad I could help. See you around campus!"

A little knot of anxiety in my stomach loosened. Maybe I could make a friend.

That evening, my phone buzzed. Not Susan, for once. It was Liam.

A new message on Instagram, a platform Susan also monitored, but she couldn't see DMs unless she logged into my account, which she only did sporadically if she suspected something.

"Hey Emily, weird question. Did your mom just message me?"

My blood ran cold.

"What? What did she say?"

He sent a screenshot.

It was from Susan Carter, her profile picture a smiling, motherly image that now looked sinister.

"Mr. Johnson, I am Emily Carter's mother. I saw your Venmo transaction with my daughter. I want to make it very clear that Emily is a vulnerable young woman, new to college, and I will not stand for anyone trying to take advantage of her financially or otherwise. Please refrain from contacting her further."

My hands started to shake.

"Oh my god, Liam, I am so, so sorry. She monitors my bank account. She's... she's very protective."

Protective wasn't the word. Controlling. Suffocating.

"Yeah, 'protective' is one word for it," Liam replied. "Look, Emily, you seem nice, but this is a little too much drama for me. I'm gonna block you, okay? No hard feelings, just don't want to get involved in... whatever this is."

Before I could type another apology, his profile picture went blank. User not found. He'd blocked me.

The little glimmer of hope from the coffee shop vanished.

Then my phone rang. "Mom" flashed on the screen.

I answered, my voice trembling.

"Emily, what is this Venmo to a Liam Johnson? Ten dollars? Who is this boy? Are you giving away our money now?"

Her voice was sharp, accusatory.

"He bought me coffee, Mom. My card was declined. I was paying him back."

"Declined? Why was it declined? Were you buying something you shouldn't have been? And why are you meeting strange boys and exchanging money with them? Have you learned nothing?"

The interrogation went on, relentless.

Then she brought it up, the old wound, always ready to be reopened.

"Remember David Miller in high school, Emily? I saw those texts. So inappropriate for a young girl. I had to call his parents. It was for your own good. You were so naive. You still are, apparently. Reckless with boys, reckless with money."

David had been my best friend, a sweet, nerdy guy who shared my love for sci-fi movies.

After Susan called his parents, accusing him of "corrupting" me, he never spoke to me again.

The memory still stung.

Now Liam. Another connection severed by Susan's paranoia.

I hung up, the silence in my dorm room deafening.

Chloe was at the library, so I was alone with the crushing weight of my mother's control.

It wasn't just about money or safety. It was about keeping me isolated, dependent, hers.

Always hers.