“Mom… Why didn’t Grandma want to give us presents?” Doesn’t she love us?
I knelt before him.
“You did nothing wrong. Ever. You’re perfect just the way you are. Never forget that.”
Laya, however, was still holding her business card. She wasn’t ready to talk yet. And I couldn’t force her.
I knew one thing: I had to act. For them. And for myself.
When the phone rang, I recognized the voice of Ria, our advisor.
“Everything has been confirmed. Money transfers to your parents have been canceled. They will receive notifications within 48 hours.”
I simply replied, “Thank you.”
Did I cross the line? Perhaps. But they crossed theirs a long time ago.
The next few days were intense. Anger, phone calls, accusations. My father shouted, my mother played the victim. I didn’t give up.
Months passed. Begging letters. Guilt-inducing messages. I didn’t reply.
Instead, I stood on the porch with the children, watching the snowman fall amidst their laughter. They were safe. Happy. And so was I.
We hung Laya’s card on our Christmas tree, in a visible spot. For the first time in a long time, our house smelled of peace.
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