I caught my dad on my security camera planning to move my brother into my house while I was on a trip, and when my mom said, “Once everything is here, she will not make a scene. She will just accept it,” I set a trap for them.

My mother stood under the parking lot lights, pale and shaken.

I unlocked the door.

She slid in, bringing cold air and the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

“Myra,” she said at last, her voice ragged. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Kyle. I should have called first. I just thought…”

She swallowed.

“I thought you would understand. You always understand. You’re the strong one.”

“That’s the problem, Mom.”

“What?”

“That is exactly the problem.”

I turned to face her.

“You’ve spent my entire life telling yourself I’m strong, that I don’t need anything, that I’ll just accept it. But what you actually mean is that I’m convenient. That I won’t push back. That you can take and take because I’ll absorb it.”

Her eyes filled with tears.