POV SOFIA My mother's text came in again. Your father is not feeling well. Come home. I stared at it for a moment and thought, Is this how badly they wanted the money? Then I grabbed my bag and left. Because no matter how many times they had taken from me, no matter how many phone calls had ended with me feeling smaller than when I picked up, they were still my parents. And some part of me that hadn't learned better yet still responded to that word like it meant something unconditional. I went. The house looked exactly the same as it always did. I stood outside for a moment before knocking, taking in the familiar door, the familiar window, the exterior of a place that had never quite managed to feel like home no matter how many years I spent inside it, and told myself it would be quick. Check on my father. Make sure he was okay. Leave. I knocked. My mother opened the door. She looked at me like I was nothing to her. And strangely, that didn't bother me.
Last Updated : 2026-09-21 Read more