“And from today, my bedroom stays locked.”
The room fell silent. Thomas stared at the table. Lila’s lips parted, then closed again.
Max looked up. “Are you mad at me, Grandma?”
I knelt down and hugged him. “No, sweetheart. Never at you.”
“Can we still use the walkie-talkies?”
For illustrative purpose only
I smiled softly. “Always. That’s our secret connection.”
Thomas’s voice cracked. “Mom… we’re sorry. We’ll pay it back.”
“With what? More lies?”
He began to cry. “I know we messed up. But you’re still my mom. Don’t shut us out.”
“Shut you out? Thomas, I gave you everything. When you had fevers, who stayed up all night? When you broke your arm, who sat in that ER? When college got too expensive, who sacrificed to pay your tuition?”
“Mom, don’t…”
“When you got married, who paid for the decorations you couldn’t afford? When Max was born, who left work to care for him? When you needed a place, who emptied her savings?”
“You didn’t just take my money. You discarded everything I gave. My trust. My love.”
Thomas buried his face in his palms. “We didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
“Every month, you watched me suffer so you could live easier. And you said nothing.”
Lila tried to speak. “Annie, it wasn’t—”
“You wanted what I could give, not who I am.”
I cleared the table with slow hands. The way I’d cleaned up after everyone for decades. But this time… I felt lighter.
“I raised you to be honest. To care for the people who care for you. Your father would be ashamed.”
“Don’t say that, Mom.”
“Then stop giving me reasons to.”
For illustrative purpose only
They left in silence. Max waved, clutching his walkie-talkie like a lifeline.
That night, I washed dishes alone again. But when I looked in the kitchen window, the woman staring back looked stronger. Wiser.
Later, static broke the quiet.
“Grandma Annie? Are you there?”
I pressed the button. “I’m here, my love.”
“Daddy’s crying. Mommy’s mad. Did I mess up?”
I swallowed hard. “No, baby. You gave Grandma the best gift of all.”
“The walkie-talkie?”
“No, darling. The truth. It may sting—but it sets us free.”
“You’ll still love me?”
“Forever and always.”
“Good night, Grandma Annie.”
“Sweet dreams, my angel.”
I clipped the walkie-talkie back to my apron. Soon, I’d open that savings account. And every dollar I earned from now on would go where it truly belonged: toward Max’s future—not his parents’ schemes.
