“Stop. What are you doing?” Amelia pushed her leg down harder, cementing the phone in place.

Whitney yanked harder, and the phone came loose. She folded her hand around it.

“No.” Amelia lunged for it. “Give it back.”

“You’re grounded from it.” Whitney held it tight to her body, shielding it with her arms.

“Just ’cause I wouldn’t tell you who I was talking to? Why is it your business, anyway?”

“I’m your mom, Amelia. Everything about you is my business.”

“God, you are so annoying.” Grunting, she stood up and stormed down the hallway. “I wish you’d just get your own friends and leave me the hell alone.” Her bedroom door slammed loudly, the entire apartment rattling.

Usually, Whitney would leave Amelia alone. Give her a few minutes to cool off before going in. But tonight, she was too angry to wait. Leaving the cell phone on the couch, she popped up and raced after her daughter. Adrenaline pumping, she flung open Amelia’s door with more force than she meant to.

“How dare you talk to me like that,” she snapped. “You may think you’re becoming an adult, but you don’t own this place, Amelia.”

“Oh, trust me. I know,” she said, bitterness in her tone. “You’ve always been the one in control.”

Whitney paused. “What’s going on with you? Why are you talking to me like this?”

“I’m just so tired of you running my life, Mom. You won’t let me have anything that’s just mine.”

“You can have whatever you want that’s just yours if you pay for it,” Whitney snorted. “Do you have a job?”

The minute the words left her mouth, she knew they were the wrong ones.

Amelia’s eyes narrowed to mere slits on her face. “No, because you won’t let me get one.”

It was the truth, but only because Whitney wanted her to focus on school. She was a child. She didn’t need to work. Still, they’d had a huge fight over the weekend about Amelia wanting to apply to work at some clothing store in the mall. Whitney couldn’t remember the name of it. One of those places that smelled like way too much cologne, where everything was overpriced. Whitney thought she was doing Amelia a favor by not letting her work there. Once Amelia was an adult, she’d have to work the rest of her life. Why did she need to start so early?

“You won’t let me do anything that doesn’t include you,” Amelia continued.

“That’s not true.”

“Name one thing.” Amelia cocked an eyebrow.

“You go to school.” Amelia’s brow rose further, and Whitney realized that was a stupid one, so she moved on. “You hang out with friends.”

“Only here,” she said, “where you always are.”