He nodded. That night, after the party, I saw the Facebook post. My sister Veronica’s twins. Bounce house. Catering. Balloon arch. Designer décor. And there they were. My parents. Smiling.
The timestamp? The day after they were “tight.”
Mason climbed next to me on the couch and looked at the photos.
“They always have money for them.”
Not angry. Just certain. That sentence did what guilt never could.
The next morning, I opened my banking app. $800 recurring transfer. I hit cancel.
The app asked if I was sure. I pressed yes.
For the first time in three years, I chose my son over my silence.
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