I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed nine-one-one.

Brenda lunged across the edge of the mahogany table, grabbing for the phone with both hands.

Her fingernails scraped my knuckles as she tried to wrench it out of my grip.

“Put that away right now, Valerie,” Brenda shouted, her voice shrill and fast.

“Chloe is twenty-four years old and applying to graduate school.

You will not ruin my daughter’s future over a scuffle that got a little out of hand.”

I stepped back, keeping my body between my sister and my son.