Pulling into the space, I shifted into park and shut off the engine. Stepping out, I grabbed my bag and shut the back hatch roughly.
The apartment building before me was two stories tall, surrounded by winter-barren trees and clad in fading paint.
The complex had its faults, but it was reasonably safe, and together Mom and I could afford a two-bedroom.
We hadn't always been able to say that.
With a mounting sense of dread, I walked up the stairs into our apartment, dumping my bag on the floor.
"Mom? I'm home."
I heard the "thunk" of the dryer door shutting. "Give me a second."
As she walked down the hallway, toward her bedroom, I saw her glance at me with a look I couldn't begin to decipher.
Oh god...
Anxiety was gnawing a hole in my gut when she returned to the living room. I cou
