"Ace William Lander, are you rebelling? Is this about you wanting a car? Is that it? How many times do I have to tell you—you are too young to be driving that deathtrap!" Mary's voice blasted through the phone.
Ace's face turned beet red. The call wasn't even on speaker, but that didn't matter. He was surrounded by high-tier curse masters—people with supernatural senses who could hear every word of his unreasonable mother loud and clear. Embarrassment washed over him. Even Delores, who had been sitting beside him on the couch, quietly slipped away. She didn't want to invade his privacy, but he could tell from the pink tinge on her cheeks that she felt second-hand embarrassment for him.
"Mom, listen to me—yes, it's about the car. I'm not coming home until you get me one."
