As soon as I arrived at the trailer to check on dad after learning what Lorenzo did to him, I realized that these past weeks when things were easy, even enjoyable, had come to a grinding halt almost as if they never happened.
I was back to my old existence, one step away from spending the rest of my life rotting away in a trailer park, and panic dug its thumbs into my throat, squeezing off my supply of air.
I stood at the cheap, stained kitchen counter, wondering how to get out of the terrible mistake I’d made in coming here. Mindlessly smearing mustard on the white bread of his baloney sandwich, I stared at the plastic flamingos in the yard next door through the awning windows that sat off-kilter in their metal frames. “I don’t even want to think about what you had to do to get your han
