Simple.
Clean.
Painful, but clean.
Now the story had another page.
Someone had tried to preserve my scholarship.
Someone else had received the answer.
And somehow, in a house full of people who claimed they were doing what was best for the family, nobody had placed the decision back into my hands.
A soft knock sounded.
Jonathan opened the door.
“Sorry. Ethan says there are exactly three cheesecakes remaining and this information may be time-sensitive.”
Neither Denise nor I moved.
He looked at our faces.
“What happened?”
Denise looked at me, leaving the answer to me.
I folded the college letter carefully along its old crease.
“There’s another thing my family forgot to tell me.”
Jonathan’s eyes settled on the folder.
He did not ask.
From the hallway, Ethan called, “Mom?”
My son.
My home.
The life I had chosen after choices had already been made around me.
