The sharp scent of onions and garlic filled the air of our small kitchen.
I leaned against the counter, helping my mother set the plates for dinner.
I wiped the water off the plates, with a small cloth, she had washed and dried outside
Her fingers were tight around the knife,chopping the onions quickly.
She fixed her gaze on the chopped vegetables that she didn’t notice the look on my face.
“ Mum…,” I said slowly, dropping the plate gently on the counter.
Still, she didn’t look up, her attention was fully on the chopping board like she was unaware I existed.
I swallowed hard, gripping my fingers around the plate.
“ Wh… why does… he treat us like this?”
She froze, raising her head for a moment, with a faint nervous smile.
“ He works hard, Amy,” she
“ He’s always tired. That’s w
