For the moment.
That phrase became important because anger could have made me reckless.
I could have gone back inside waving my phone and accusing Dad of things I could not yet prove.
I could have called Mom and demanded that she choose a side.
I could have called Emily and asked whether she knew anything about the transfers.
I could have let the shock of being thrown outside turn every unanswered question into a conclusion.
That would have been emotionally understandable.
It also would have been exactly the wrong thing to do.
So I stopped trying to make my family understand me.
I focused on preserving what I actually had.
First, I checked the recorder.
The green indicator was still blinking.
I confirmed that the device had captured a continuous file beginning before the argument and continuing through the moment Dad threw me out.
That mattered.
A continuous recording was different from trying to recreate the exchange afterward from memory.
