She stepped outside with a worn out suitcase and a grip so tight on the handle you’d think she was holding her whole life in it. Maybe she was. Her son Jason stood in the doorway, arms crossed, avoiding her eyes.Melissa, his wife, leaned against the frame behind him wearing that half smile people use when they’ve finally gotten what they want. You can’t stay here anymore, Mom, Jason said his voice flat. We’ve got kids’ bills.