“I have breast cancer.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
“Stage three.”
I sat down beside her.
She had found a lump seven months earlier.
At first, she assumed it was nothing.
Then it grew.
She told Mom she needed to see a specialist.
Mom told her she was being dramatic.
When Naomi tried to use money from the account, she discovered she no longer had access.
Mom had convinced the bank that managing household expenses would be easier if the transfers went through an account she controlled.
I had signed paperwork overseas months earlier.
I remembered it.
Mom had told me the forms were necessary because the old account had been compromised.
I had been exhausted.
I trusted her.
Naomi begged for money.
Just enough to see a specialist in Atlanta.
Mom refused.
Kendra accused her of inventing symptoms because she wanted attention from me.
Then Naomi tried to contact me directly.
