Lowest Score in Dad's Family Love App Chapter 2

The few heavy knocks on the door were met with silence on the other side.

"Andrea, Dad wants you in the chapel. The rest of the family's waiting."

There was still no response.

"Did you hear me? Andrea, are you trying to get me punished alongside you? I'm talking to you! Say something!"

The knocks grew louder until Erik was full-on banging on the door. The wooden door creaked under his fist, rattling as if it would cave and splinter.

It was precisely the sound of impatient knocking that startled me awake a month ago. I'd found myself dragged out of bed, still in my sleepwear, and cornered in Dad's study.

It began when I found a glitch in the app's programming. As long as we checked into the system at 4:44 am, our points would stack once by mistake. I told my only older brother, Erik, of this secret.

"Look, Erik." I'd presented him with my phone as if it were some rare treasure. "This way, we won't lose our points!"

He'd leaned in close and flashed me a gentle smile. "Is that right? You didn't tell Dad, did you?"

I shook my head, thrilled by our conspiracy. "We're the only ones who know about this."

Erik had ruffled my hair. "Clever little thing! Let's keep this to ourselves. Leave it to me."

After that, I found myself in the study late at night, pinned under Dad's gaze as he sat behind his large, mahogany work desk. Erik stood behind him with his head low.

"Well, aren't we brilliant, figuring out ways to play the system?"

My heart sank. I glanced at Erik, but he avoided my gaze.

At that moment, Dad's phone chimed with a notification. A mechanical female voice spelled out my crime and Erik's accomplishment, "User Erik Jacobson has reported system-cheating behavior and protected the integrity of the family rules. 200 points added."

Erik heaved a sigh, as if he couldn't bear to see me punished. "It's for your own good, Andrea. We need to correct your misbehavior and ill intentions as soon as possible so you can become a qualified heir. It was why Dad created the app in the first place."

He earned an approving look from Dad, prompting him to flash me a wider grin.

I was plagued by countless nightmares after that. Erik's insincere grin was in all of them.

The banging outside the door finally stopped. I heard Erik's footsteps disappear downstairs. "Dad, she's locked the door and refuses to open it!"

There was a brief silence in the chapel, followed by Dad's angry growl. "Useless piece of trash!"

First, there was the sound of furniture scraping against the floor. Then came the thud of heavy footsteps on the wooden staircase, growing louder as they approached me. At last, the footsteps stopped outside my door.

A loud bang echoed off the walls. The door rattled. Dad hadn't knocked. He'd kicked the door.

"Andrea! When I count to three, I want you out of that room! One!"

He began to count.

"Two!"

The door remained shut.

Whispers from the chapel rose through the floorboards.

"How dare you disobey me!" Dad kicked the door. There was another bang.

The next second, I heard him take out his phone and tap the screen frantically. He'd remembered the other weapon in his arsenal.

"User Andrea Jacobson has broken family rules and refused to follow orders. Highest level of punishment initiated. The user is requested to open the door now."

The mechanical female voice of the Family app hadn't sounded from my phone but from Dad's on the other side of the door. A second had passed since the order, then two. And yet, the door remained firmly shut.

"Warning: Target user's equipment is offline. Unable to deliver order."

For the first time, the digital shackles Dad had created had failed him. The discussion in the chapel grew louder.

"Fighting back? Quite the rebel, aren't we? Get the spare key!" Dad roared. "Erik, get it from my study!"

Erik's hurried footsteps faded into the distance before they returned just as hastily. The key slotted into the keyhole and turned.

The door unlocked with a click and was pushed open, but the gap was no bigger than a finger's breadth before the door stopped short. There was a muffled thud, as if something had been propped against the door on the other side.

"Dad, I can't push it all the way open." Erik's voice quaked. "Something's blocking it."

"Move!" Dad shoved Erik aside, then took two steps back before lunging forward, shoving his shoulder against the door. A resounding bang echoed off the walls. The building seemed to shake, and the door creaked in protest.

I couldn't help but tremble. The sound suddenly reminded me of the deafening whir of the paper shredder in the study.

That day, Dad found a metal box under my bed during his weekly room check. Inside the metal box were the things I'd secretly stored away after Mom's passing—a few faded pictures I had with her and a couple of birthday cards she'd written me.

Dad had taken the metal box to the study and tipped its contents onto the expensive mahogany desk while I watched.

"What are these?"

"My mom," I'd answered.

"The dead should be buried and left in the trash bin inside our memories."

He pinched the picture I'd taken with Mom on the beach between his fingers, lifting it from the pile. Mom's smile was bright in the picture.

"Holding on to these useless emotions will only make you weak, and our family has no place for the weak."

He turned on the paper shredder beside the desk. It roared to life and warmed up.

Without another word, Dad fed the picture into the opening of the paper shredder. I watched as Mom's smiling face stretched out of shape between the blades and came out the other side in countless thin ribbons.

"No." The word was barely more than a squeak as it escaped my throat.

But Dad didn't stop. He picked up a card with Mom's delicate handwriting. "To my dearest Andie, happy birthday!"

The paper shredder whirred and then clicked. Mom's written birthday blessing became a pile of colorful paper strips.

Dad had fed all my useless emotions through the paper shredder. When he was done, he pointed at the small pile of colorful paper shreds. "Clean that up. I want that mess off my carpet."

Presently, Dad's heavy panting came from the other side of the door. "Erik, come here! We'll knock this door down together!"

"Yes, right away, Dad!"

I heard two sets of footsteps shuffle around outside as they adjusted their positions. I also heard Dad and Erik draw deep breaths.