“You signed false property documents.”
“And your first instinct is to ask why your mother didn't protect you from the woman you were helping defraud her?”
His face collapsed.
He began crying.
I stood.
“Meeting over.”
“Mom, wait.”
I turned.
He covered his face.
Then said something different.
“I'm doing it again.”
I waited.
He looked at me.
“Making myself the victim.”
For the first time since this began—
I sat back down.
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly.
“I don't know how not to.”
“Learn.”
“How?”
“Not from me.”
That surprised him.
“You need professionals.”
“Accountability.”
“Whatever treatment the court orders.”
“But I am not going to become your recovery program.”
His tears fell.
I continued.
“I spent thirty years solving your discomfort.”
“Forgot homework?”
“I drove it.”
“Needed money?”
“I sent it.”
“Bad job?”
“I found a better contact.”
“Marriage trouble?”
“I paid for a vacation because I thought you needed time together.”
