“You have no right,” she hissed. “I’ve been living in my son’s house!”
I met her gaze directly. “Then maybe it’s time you remembered—it’s our home too.
And it’s love that’s kept you here, not obligation.”
I don’t know if I was right or wrong that night. But after eight years of care, love, and quiet respect, being told my children weren’t family was something I couldn’t just ignore.
So tell me—was I unfair, or finally just honest?
