14 :: unknown caller
TAYLOR ISN'T BACK from her date until two in the morning. Chelsea doesn't know whether that's a good or bad thing. She stays up nonetheless, yawning as her sister walks through the door.
"How'd it go?"
"Great."
"You don't sound it."
"It's late. I'm tired."
The room is enshrouded in darkness but the moonlight filtering in through the windows shows that Taylor's lipstick has been smudged off. She thinks it used to be a cherry colour.
"It was you."
Taylor stops at the foot of the stairs.
"Last year. The money in the account. It was you, wasn't it?"
She doesn't turn around.
Was it clean? She knows it probably wasn't. "It helped tide dad and me over for a while. Thanks."
There's no response. Taylor walks lethargically up the stairs and she hears the sound of her bedroom door closing.
Chelsea knows she should go to sleep but she can't. She'd been tossing in bed all this time. It was one of those nights. Instead, she decides to do her homework. She can almost hear Taylor insulting her, waits for it even, but it doesn't come.
Eventually, she forces herself to get up to force herself to fall asleep when the phone rings. It's not her own, it's coming from Taylor's cell.
She rummages around the side bag Taylor had dropped on her way in and sees an unknown number on the screen. She presses accept.
"Hello?"
1 potato.
2 potato.
3 potato.
4 pota--
The call disconnects.
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