AFTER MONTHS OF MY DAUGHTER “HELPING” WITH MY BILLS, HIDING MY BANK STATEMENTS, TAKING MY DEBIT CARD

saying something.”

I leaned one hip against the counter and looked out the back window at the birdbath Tom had insisted on placing where no birds ever used it.

“I moved my money,” I said.

Her voice dropped lower. “That affects me.”

I closed my eyes.

“It shouldn’t.”

She didn’t answer. The line went dead without goodbye.

I made tea after that and forgot about continue reading …