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I should turn it on. I should at least check the messages, see what kind of damage control my father is trying to do, figure out if they're actually looking for me or if they've already written me off as an embarrassment and moved on.

I need to know.

I pick up the phone and press the power button before I can talk myself out of it. The screen lights up, and within seconds, the notifications start flooding in.

**47 missed calls.**

**128 text messages.**

**23 voicemails.**

My stomach twists.

I scroll through the missed calls first. My father's number appears seventeen times. Victoria's number twelve times. Chase's number three times, which is probably three more than I expected. Chase's mother called four times. The wedding planner called six times. And there are at least five calls from numbers I don't recognize.

I move on to the text messages, and my hands start shaking before I even open the first one.

**Victoria:** *Where are you?*

**Victoria:** *This is unacceptable. Call me immediately.*

**Victoria:** *You're making a fool of yourself and your father. Get back here NOW.*

**Victoria:** *Fine. Be selfish. But don't expect us to welcome you back when you realize what a mistake you've made.*

**Victoria:** *You've always been ungrateful. Your mother would be ashamed of you.*

That last one hits like a punch to the gut.

My mother. The mother I never knew. The mother who died giving birth to me.

Victoria knows exactly how to twist the knife.

I keep scrolling, even though every message makes my chest tighter.

**Father:** *Bree, please call me. We need to talk.*

**Father:** *I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't the way to handle things.*

**Father:** *The Abernathys are furious. You've humiliated Chase and his entire family.*

**Father:** *If you don't come back and fix this, there will be consequences.*

**Father:** *I'm disappointed in you. I thought you were more mature than this.*

**Father:** *You're throwing away your entire future. For what? Some childish fantasy of independence?*

The tears start before I can stop them.

Because that's what he thinks. That's what he's always thought. That I'm childish, immature and incapable of making my own decisions. That my entire purpose is to smile for the cameras and marry well and make him look good.

I swipe to the next message.

**Chase:** *Really, Bree? This is how you handle things?*

**Chase:** *You could have just talked to me. We could have worked something out.*

**Chase:** *My mother is losing her mind. Hope you're happy.*