Ignoring her hateful shouting behind me, I walked quickly out of the office.
Because the police got involved, I soon proved I was innocent. For three days, my mother and sister were held in custody.
Three days passed, and my mother called me.
For the first time, her tone softened. Sounding hoarse, she said, “Leigh, after staying in there for three days, I realized you’re the only one who honestly cares about me. Your sister kept calling me useless and yelling at me for being old. I actually feel bad for you.”
I felt nothing. “What do you want to say?”
“I cooked a few of your favorite dishes and want to apologize to you in person.”
“I’m not going.”
My mother instantly began crying. “I know I’ve done awful things, and you’ll never forgive me. I’ll just go die then, throw myself in front of your father’s grave!”
“Stop.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll come. Don’t talk about Dad again.”
My father had been the only one who treated me kindly, and even after his death, I didn’t want him disturbed.
When I arrived home, my mother acted overly warm, placing food into my bowl and pouring a drink. Staying alert, I only began eating after watching her take a bite first.