I Stopped Turning Around

Right before I left work on Thanksgiving, my younger sister, Chloe, called me in tears. "Leah, Mom collapsed! The doctor says she might not make it through the night!" I walked out on a client mid-signing and took a cab halfway across the city to the hospital. Then, in the restaurant across the street, I saw my whole family raising their glasses and cheering. Chloe was laughing so hard she pounded the table. "Forty-one minutes! I told you she'd fall for it!" Mom, fork in hand, waved me over. "Come on, the food's getting cold. Honestly, you'll believe anything Chloe says." Dad couldn't stop laughing. "You're sharp most days, but the second we use your mom to scare you, your brain goes out the window." I froze in the doorway and turned to my boyfriend, Grant. He was leisurely topping off Chloe's drink. When he caught me looking, he chuckled. "Don't glare at me. I'm the one who picked the hospital. "Far from your office. It's the only way to really test how devoted you are." The whole table burst out laughing again. Once, I would've been in tears, asking them why. This time, I was just tired. Two years ago, they faked Dad's car accident to make me drop out of a competition. Last year, they claimed Grandma had fallen, and I missed my promotion interview. Every time, they bet on how fast I'd come running back. The more I cared about them, the easier I was to fool. I looked down and replied to the transfer email I'd been sitting on for two weeks. This time, I'm not coming back. Chapter 1 My phone buzzed while everyone at the table was still laughing. It was my manager, Paul. I stared at the screen for two seconds before answering. "Leah, where are you? "The client waited twenty minutes and left." I opened my mouth, then closed it. "Something came up with my family." There was a pause. "Is everyone okay?" I looked at my family in front of me, laughing so hard they could barely sit upright. "They're fine." "Good." He sighed. "But you've been working this client for four months, and he flies back to Germany tomorrow. There's a good chance we just lost the contract. Just so you're prepared." The call ended. My younger sister, Chloe, leaned across the table. "Wow. You actually messed up work this time?" Her eyes were bright with amusement. "If I'd known your boss would call, I would've bet fifty minutes instead. Then we could've heard him yell at you too." Mom lightly smacked her arm. "Enough. Don't push it." Before I could even breathe out, she turned to me. "Leah, honestly. It's Thanksgiving. Couldn't your client sign another day? "Money isn't more important than family." Dad nodded immediately. "Exactly. You can always find another client. But if something really happened to your mother? You can't exactly go out and find another one." He sounded so pleased with his own logic that Chloe burst out laughing. "Dad, the way you say it, you'd think Mom actually spent the night in intensive care." The whole table laughed again. Then I noticed a sheet of paper half-hidden beneath Chloe's phone. Three crooked lines were written across it. Dad's car accident—twenty-seven minutes. Grandma's fall—thirty-three minutes. Mom dying—forty-one minutes. Below that, she had drawn a downward arrow. Leah's getting slower. I stared at it. "You've been keeping records?" Chloe followed my gaze and immediately grabbed the paper. "Of course. These are my wins." She shoved it toward my boyfriend, Grant Callahan. "See? I told you Mom was the best one to use." Grant skimmed the page and tugged Chloe's ponytail. "Next time, don't take it this far." I looked at him. "There's going to be a next time?" He paused. Then he slid a piece of steak onto my plate. "Come on. I was just saying. "Why do you jump on every little thing I say lately?" His voice dropped. "Everyone's having a good time. Don't make things awkward again." I looked at the steak on my plate. Suddenly I had no appetite at all. At eleven that night, the company email arrived. TRANSFER APPROVED. Vancouver office. Three-year assignment. Report in three days. I clicked Accept. From the living room, Chloe's laughter floated down the hall. "Mom, what should we use to trick her next year?" Dad answered without hesitation. "There's still Grandma June." Everyone laughed. I closed my laptop. For the first time, I didn't walk out and ask what was so funny. Chapter 2 Around noon the next day, Chloe suddenly grabbed her stomach and crouched down. "Mom, my stomach hurts." Mom dropped the vegetables she was washing. "Where? Right side or left?" Dad turned off the TV and grabbed his car keys. "Stop asking questions. We're going to the hospital." Grant knelt in front of Chloe and helped her into her shoes, his face tight with worry. "Was it the hot wings last night?" Chloe had gone pale. "I don't know. It hurts." Nobody laughed. Nobody started a timer. Mom was so frantic she put on two different shoes. I stood in the entryway watching the chaos, and suddenly the whole thing felt absurd. At the hospital, the doctor said it was acute gastroenteritis. Mom finally exhaled. "You scared me half to death." Dad wiped his forehead. "As long as she's okay." Grant ran around filling the preion and getting Chloe a cup of hot tea. On the drive home, Chloe was already feeling much better and scrolling through videos on her phone. I sat in the back seat of the SUV. Then I asked, "Why didn't anyone bet on how many minutes it would take her to cry?" The car went quiet. Mom turned around. "What?" "Chloe said her stomach hurt." I looked at her. "Why didn't anyone bet on whether she was lying?" Mom's expression changed. "How can you say something like that?" Dad glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "She was actually sick." I smiled. "Right. "So when it's real, it's not a game." Dad had no answer. Grant understood immediately. He sighed. "Leah, that's not the same. "Yesterday your mother was fine. Today Chloe was really in pain." I looked at him. "So all of you know some things shouldn't be used as jokes." He went quiet. After a moment, he let out an irritated breath. "If you're going to twist it like that, there's nothing I can do." Mom jumped in. "Enough. It's Thanksgiving weekend. Stop dragging yesterday into everything. "Your sister feels awful and you're still hung up on that little prank." That little prank. Four months of work on a client. A signing I'd missed. The entire drive to the hospital spent imagining my mother dying before I arrived. All of it, boiled down to three words. That afternoon, Paul messaged me. The German client had signed with a competitor. My year-end promotion review had also been pulled because of the hole the lost project left. I stared at the message and didn't move for a long time. Mom was peeling an apple for Chloe. She glanced at my phone. "Work again? "I've told you before, Leah. Women shouldn't build their whole lives around careers. "Once you and Grant get married, having a good home matters more than any title." Grant smiled easily from the next chair. "Exactly. "If your career falls apart, I'll take care of you." Chloe covered her mouth dramatically. "Ooh, look at Grant going full romance hero!" The three of them laughed. I smiled too. Once, I probably would've thought it was sweet. That evening, I started packing. Mom came into my room while I was putting my passport and documents into a travel organizer. She didn't ask what I was doing. Instead, she opened my closet and pulled out my cashmere coat. "You barely wore this last winter. "Chloe has a date next week. I'll let her borrow it." I kept folding clothes. "Take it." Mom stopped. Usually, when she took something of mine for Chloe, I protested. My sudden agreement seemed to make her uneasy. "You're not upset?" I smiled. "No." She relaxed. "Good. "We're family. Stop keeping track of what's yours and what's mine." She carried the coat away. She never noticed that half the closet was already empty. Chapter 3 On the third day, my company asked me to print and sign the transfer documents. The printer at home was broken. I picked up the family tablet from the living room so I could send the forms to a copy shop. The moment I unlocked it, a message appeared. THANKSGIVING SQUAD. Chloe had posted a crying emoji. [Leah barely reacts anymore. This isn't fun.] Dad replied, [Give her a couple days. Don't actually make her furious.] Mom added, [Yeah. Last year with Grandma, she really did miss work.] I stared at the screen. So they knew. I scrolled upward. Last year, the day Grandma supposedly fell, Chloe had asked, [What time should I call her?] Grant had replied, [Her promotion interview is at two. Call at 1:40. She'll run out without even closing her laptop.] He'd added a smirking emoji. My hand stopped moving. After I missed that interview, I sat in the parking garage and cried for two hours. Grant came to find me. He hugged me. He said there would be other opportunities. He even scolded Chloe for going too far. But he had known. Worse, he had chosen the time. I kept scrolling. Two years earlier, before my competition, Chloe had asked whether using Dad's car accident would be too much. Mom had replied, [Don't say it was serious. Just say someone rear-ended him.] Dad had added a laughing emoji: [Let's see if she can beat her thirty-minute record.] Then came Grant's message: [The competition venue is too close to the nearest hospital. Use North York General instead or she'll arrive in ten minutes. No fun in that.] I sat on the couch. Cold spread slowly through my body. The front door opened. Grant walked in carrying two pumpkin spice lattes. "Didn't you say you were craving one?" Then he saw the tablet in my hands and stopped short. I looked up. "You knew about Grandma too?" The room went still. Grant glanced at the screen. He didn't bother pretending. He put the drinks down. "Leah. That group is just for jokes." "What about the competition?" He frowned. "That was two years ago. "Are you really going to dig through every single thing we've ever done?" I almost laughed. "You comforted me afterward." Grant's expression shifted. "You were sobbing. What was I supposed to do? "And I did tell Chloe not to take it so far." I pointed to his message about changing hospitals. "That was you stopping her?" He was quiet for two seconds. Then his tone hardened. "Fine. I didn't think that one through. "But I was trying to get along with your family. "Chloe likes to joke around. I can't keep ruining her fun in front of your parents every single time." I looked at him for a long time. "So you'd rather ruin mine." He stared. "Here we go again." He rubbed his forehead. "You and Chloe aren't the same. "You're my girlfriend. She's just immature." I didn't say anything else. Everyone had a reason. Chloe was young. My parents wanted to keep their younger daughter happy. Grant wanted my family to like him. Only my pain was apparently never allowed a reason. When I stayed silent, Grant assumed the argument was over. He reached over to ruffle my hair. "Okay. "Once the long weekend's over, we'll get our marriage license. After that, I'll keep Chloe in line for you." I moved away from his hand. "Sure." That afternoon, I canceled our engagement photo session. Then I transferred my share of our joint savings back into my personal account. That night, Grant texted me. [Monday we're picking outfits for the courthouse. Don't forget.] I looked at the message. I didn't reply. By Monday, I wouldn't be in Toronto anymore. Chapter 4 The morning I left, Mom was awake unusually early. She was making oatmeal when I rolled my suitcase out of my room. She paused when she saw it. "Business trip?" I nodded. "Yeah." She didn't ask much else. "How long?" "A while." With her back to me, she stirred the pot twice. "Work is fine, but don't forget you have a family. "Aren't you and Grant going shopping for outfits for the courthouse next week?" "Mm-hm." She didn't hear anything strange in my voice. Chloe slept late. When I was putting on my shoes, she poked her head out of her room with her hair everywhere. "Leah, come back early tonight. "I bought that pistachio cake you like." I paused. She immediately became defensive. "I'm serious this time. No prank. "I swear." Dad laughed from the breakfast table. "You've fooled her so many times she doesn't believe anything now." Chloe snorted. "Not my fault she's so easy to trick." They laughed. Grant came in at the same moment. He saw my suitcase and barely reacted. "Client trip?" "Yeah." "When are you back?" "I don't know." He let out an impatient sigh. "Lately, every answer from you is 'I don't know.'" Then he accepted the coffee Mom handed him. Nobody asked where I was going. Nobody considered the possibility that I might actually leave. Halfway to the airport, Chloe called me. She was sobbing so hard she could barely speak. "Leah! "Dad fell down the stairs. His head's bleeding everywhere." My grip tightened around my phone. My heart still reacted before my mind did. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Do you need to turn around?" I was silent for two seconds. Then I asked Chloe, "Did you call 911?" She stopped. "What?" "If Dad's head is bleeding that badly, why haven't you called 911?" There was half a second of silence. Then the line exploded with laughter. Dad's voice joined in. "Look at that. She's finally wised up." Mom laughed too. "I told you that one's gotten old." I closed my eyes. Even on my last morning in Toronto, they were still playing games. Chloe could barely breathe from laughing. "Leah, where are you? "You actually didn't fall for it this time. Grant and I were betting you'd turn around within ten minutes." Grant spoke in the background. "I said fifteen. "She acts tough, but if it's about your parents, she never lasts long." All their familiar laughter blended together. And suddenly I laughed too. "Then keep betting." Chloe stopped. "Leah?" I ended the call. Ten minutes later, Dad texted me a question mark. At fifteen minutes, Grant started calling. I didn't answer any of them. The boarding announcement came over the airport speakers. A colleague from Vancouver texted, [Message when you land. Someone will pick you up.] I replied, [Okay.] Then I turned off family location sharing. I left the family group chat I'd been in for more than a decade. As the plane began moving toward the runway, my phone lit up one last time. It was Grant. [Leah, enough.] [Your parents are waiting for you to come home for dinner.] I watched the message for two seconds. Then I powered off my phone. Toronto shrank beneath the clouds. They were still waiting for me to turn around. Waiting for me to worry. Waiting for me to rush back the way I always had, even when some part of me knew I might be getting tricked again. Not this time. This time, they lost the bet.