My son put me in a nursing home to sell my house—I quietly let him, until days later he called screaming, “How could you do this to me?!”

worse.”

“I agree. You have already done enough.”

I ended the call and confirmed I would leave when my trial stay finished the next morning.

Mrs. Alvarez drove me home.

Emily was waiting in her car across the street, eyes red but steady.

I had invited her after Jason’s call.

“I need to hear him say it,” she told me.

“You may hear less than you deserve.”

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