There’s a long silence.
“You need to call your manager,” her mother finally says.“He’s not happy with you.”
“He’s my employee,” Isla replies coolly.“Not the other way around.But then again, I’ve always thoughtyouwere my manager, and Henry was just your workhorse.”
The sharp intake of breath tells Isla she’s hit something vital.
“And Isla,” her mother adds suddenly, voice shifting, “I don’t like that man.”
Isla stills.
“What man?”she asks.
“You know exactly who I mean.Callum Fraser.”
There it is.
Fear.
Not concern.Not dislike.
Fear.
“Why?”Isla asks softly.
“He’s dangerous,” her mother says.“He’s filling your head with nonsense.”
“He hasn’t said anything about you,” Isla replies.
“That’s worse,” Alisa snaps.“Men like him don’t need to.”
Isla’s fingers tighten around the phone.
“Good night, Mother,” she says evenly.
“I don’t like what Scotland is doing to you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s changing you,” her mother says.
“It’s called independence,” Isla replies.“I’m finally learning to live my life on my own.And I am beginning to really like Callum.He kisses like the devil.”
A gasp on the other end of the line has her smiling.
She ends the call before her mother can respond.
The silence after the call feels different from before.
Not empty.
Alert.
Isla lowers the phone slowly, her fingers still curved around it like she expects it to ring again.Her mother has always had a way of reclaiming space even after conversations ended, lingering in Isla’s head, rewriting what was said, reminding her who held the power.
Not this time.
This time, something has shifted.
