My mother said, “Your brother is coming to live with us with his two children, so you have to leave, you parasite.” I replied, “You’re joking, right?” My mother laughed. “No, I’m serious.” I didn’t say anything and left. The next morning… 53 missed calls.

PART 2:

The night before, I didn’t cry. I didn’t break anything. I didn’t text anyone to make a scene.

I made coffee.

I took a blue folder from my desk drawer and started organizing receipts, vouchers, bank statements, transfers, invoices, and screenshots of conversations.

Three years summarized in paperwork.

The water heater I paid for when my mom said she couldn’t shower with cold water.

The property tax I paid off because it already had a red notice.