“I didn’t hear anything,” he lied. The lie hung in the air, thick and poisonous.

“You have to choose, Robert,” Dawn hissed, crossing her arms. “Either this ungrateful old woman leaves, or I do.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the cast-iron skillet at my feet. I looked at my son. I begged him with my eyes to be the man his father raised.

He looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he mumbled. “But this isn’t working. You’re causing too much trouble. You need to leave.”

The air left the room. “You’re kicking me out?” I asked. “Tonight?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he said, still not meeting my eyes. “I’ll give you some cash for a hotel. Until you find… somewhere else.”

That night, I sat on the edge of the bed, touching the bruise on my temple. I didn’t sleep. I packed my four suitcases with mechanical precision.