When My Kids Didn’t Show Up, My Neighbor Held My Hand Instead

but to drive away the help I had.

On the third day, my sister called.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, clipped.

“Are you mad?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

She sighed like she’d been waiting for me to say it.

“Martha… you have to see it from their side.”

I laughed, bitter.

“Do I?” I asked.

“They’re scared,” she insisted. “They see some young man in your apartment,continue reading …