Clara stared at the screen.
Left?
She never left.
She was right there the whole time.
“Can I come over?” Sophie sent.
Clara sent her address and sat in the parked car for twenty minutes.
When Sophie knocked, Clara opened the door and saw her daughter’s face — guarded, suspicious, the same look Margaret always wore before an argument.
“You graduated,” Sophie said flatly, looking at the diploma on the kitchen counter.
“Yes.”
“Why now?
You’re fifty-two.”
“Because I went back.
I started over.”
Sophie crossed her arms.
“Grandma said you dropped out when I was born.
She said you didn’t want the responsibility.”
Clara felt the floor shift under her.
“I didn’t drop out, Sophie.
I was pulled out.”
“By who?”
“By your grandmother.”
Sophie’s jaw tightened.
“She said you left me with her because you wanted to travel.
Have your own life.
She said you only came back when it was convenient.”
