“We didn’t say you were.”
“You brought a suitcase.”
He looked frustrated.
“We’re trying to make this easier.”
“For whom?”
Nobody answered.
That silence told me more than words could have.
I Decided to Go Along With Them
I could have refused.
I could have called an attorney.
I could have demanded answers.
But something inside me said, Go.
Not because I agreed.
Because I wanted to see how far they were willing to go.
So I picked up my handbag.
“Fine.”
My son looked relieved.
“Thank you.”
I almost smiled.
He thought he’d won.
He had no idea I had already begun thinking several steps ahead.
We got into the SUV.
My daughter sat in the passenger seat.
I sat in the back.
As we drove away from the house, I looked through the window at the place where I’d spent most of my adult life.
I wondered whether I would ever see it again.
Then my son turned onto a road I didn’t recognize.
We weren’t going toward town.
We weren’t heading toward any senior community.
We were driving farther and farther away from everything familiar.
My stomach tightened.
“Where are we going?”
My son didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said, “You’ll see.”
The Road Became More Isolated
The houses disappeared.
Then the businesses disappeared.
Eventually there were only fields.
The road narrowed.
There were no sidewalks.
No streetlights.
No nearby buildings.
I looked at my daughter.
She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Where are we going?” I asked again.
My son gripped the steering wheel.
“Mom, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
A few minutes later, he pulled the SUV onto the side of the road.
The engine continued running.
I looked around.
There was nothing nearby except farmland.
Then my son turned toward me.
His expression was strangely calm.
“This is where you get out.”
For a second, I thought I had misunderstood him.
“What?”
“This is where you get out.”
I looked at my daughter.
She stared straight ahead.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
Nobody laughed.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“You brought me out here to leave me?”
My son shook his head.
“You’re making this dramatic.”
“Dramatic?”
“We can’t keep dealing with this.”
“Dealing with what?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he unlocked the door.
I Stepped Onto the Road
I got out slowly.
