Chapter 4

"Mom, why didn't you... why didn't you tell me?"

Mom sighed and reached up to wipe my face. Her hands were rough, and the calluses on her fingertips brushed the skin at the corner of my eye, making it sting a little.

"What was I supposed to tell you? It costs enough just to live in the city. I can't do much to help you, but I don't want to make things harder for you."

"Mom—"

She cut me off. "I'm really fine. Look, the terminal is well lit, and security makes rounds. It's safe here, and there's plenty of room."

I looked at her.

She didn't say she was cold or hungry. She didn't mention spending seven hours on a bus and then half the night on a hard bench at the bus terminal.

All she talked about was how bright, spacious, and safe it was.

Mom had always been like that. No matter how hard things got, she'd only tell me a fraction of it. She kept the rest to herself.

We were poor when I was growing up. Dad died when I was young, so Mom raised me alone.

During the busy farming season, she worked in the fields. When things slowed down, she went into town and took whatever jobs she could find.

But she always made sure I had clean clothes and a hot meal.

When I was in high school, I needed 1,200 dollars for school. Mom didn't have it, so she borrowed money from five different families. By the time she got home, it was already dark.

She was still smiling when she pulled a stack of bills from her pocket. They were mostly fives and tens, and it took her a while to count them all.

When she finished, she looked at me and said, "Justin, I may not be able to give you much, but I'll make sure you finish school."

Years later, I graduated, got a job, and built a life for myself in the city. The first thing I wanted was for Mom to move in with me.

But she refused.

She always had an excuse. The vegetables in her garden needed watering. A neighbor had asked her to watch their kid for a few days. She couldn't get used to the elevators in the city.

But I knew the real reason. She was afraid she'd be a burden to me.

After Deborah moved in, Mom became even more reluctant to come stay with me. She always said she was fine on her own and didn't want to get in the way.

But every month, without fail, she sent 2,000 dollars to my account.

Whenever I told her I didn't need it, she'd say, "Just keep it. A man needs some money in his pocket."

Meanwhile, she was back home in the country, still wearing the same jacket after ten years, even though the collar was frayed.

And Ella's family had the nerve to keep living in a condo Mom had paid for.

What gave them the right?

I clenched my fists. Then I had an idea.

I wasn't about to let Mom spend the night at the bus terminal, so I took her to the nicest hotel nearby. The room cost 880 dollars for the night.

Mom stopped at the door and refused to go in. "Justin, I don't need a room this nice. I can just spend the night at the terminal—"

I cut her off and pulled her inside. "Mom, you spent 800,000 dollars buying me that condo. I can take care of you now. Just let me do something for you for once, okay?"

She looked at me and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

I helped Mom inside and sat her on the edge of the bed. She sank into the soft mattress, which made her look even smaller.

"Mom, get some rest tonight. We'll deal with everything else tomorrow."

She held my hand, looking worried. "What about you? When you go back home... you're not going to fight with them, are you?"

I shook my head. "No. Don't worry. I won't."

There was no point arguing with a bunch of bastards like them.

Mom looked at me for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Good. As long as you're okay, that's all that matters to me."

I didn't say anything else. I tucked the blanket around her and left the room.

The hallway was quiet. I leaned against the wall for a moment, then pulled out my phone and made a call.

"Hi, I need to sell my condo. I don't care how low you have to price it. I only have one condition."