“Well, Eleanor, you know, we just want what’s best for you. But if you change your mind, we’re here.” She left with the same smile she arrived with. The cookies remained on my table. I didn’t touch those either. I didn’t want to eat anything that came from those hands.
I didn’t sleep well that night. I kept thinking about their words, about how they had coordinated their attacks—first Mark with his fake concern, then Clare with her poisoned offer. Both looking for the same thing: access to my money.
On Friday, Mark returned, this time with another excuse. “Mom, I need to ask you for a favor. It’s temporary, I swear. We’re a little tight on bills this month, and we need to borrow about $3,000. I’ll pay you back in two weeks. My word.”
$3,000. A specific amount—an amount that proved they already knew how much I had.
“Mark, I’ve already lent you money. And you’ve rarely paid me back in full.”
“This time is different, Mom. This time I’ll pay you back,” he insisted. “I have a new project, a business opportunity, but I need capital to start.”
I shook my head slowly. “No, son. Not this time.”
His face changed. The mask cracked completely. “I can’t believe you’re being so selfish,” he snapped. “You have money just sitting there doing nothing and you won’t help your own son, your own family.”
Selfish. That word hit me harder than anything else.
“Mark, I worked forty-two years for that money. It’s not selfish to protect what cost me so much to earn. It’s survival.”
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