Mom blinked, clearly surprised that I remained calm.
“End of the week.”
Mason grinned. “Try not to take the good towels.”
That settled it.
I stood, went upstairs, packed the emergency suitcase I kept under my bed, and came back down wearing my coat.
Dad frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Becoming independent.”
I grabbed my bag.
Mason snorted.
“Dramatic.”