My son violently h//it me 30 times in front of his wife at his birthday dinner. “Get out, you obsolete burden,” she laughed. Then, he hurled the only thing I had left of my late husband—his vintage compass away. I didn’t yell. I didn’t cry. I quietly left the mansion. He thought he had won. But when the sun came up, he was desperately begging me to cancel the command that just ruined his life…
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