Mom gave me a look as she got inside my unit. It’s obvious that she’s trying to look around to see what kind of a home I have been living since I left home.
She sighed hard and placed her Birkin on the center table before sitting on the couch.
I took a deep breath and faced her. “What are you doing here, Mom?” I asked her.
She looked at me and sighed. “Come home,” she said.
I paused and clenched my fists. I didn’t expect her to say that. I was expecting something else. Surely, she could have asked me to come home the moment I was gone. I know she can find me as easy as one-two-three. She’s got a lot of sources. And besides, she knows where I work. She can easily hire someone to follow me around and stalk me.
But why did she only come here now? I can’t shrug off the bad feeling ab
