It was expert work. He used my sacrifice as the justification for his abuse. Melissa flanked him without missing a beat. “We keep Mom on a routine. Seniors thrive on routine.

I read an article.”

I nodded and kept collecting data.

Lunch confirmed the rest. Melissa set four places at the dining table and left a single plastic tray on the kitchen counter. “Mom prefers eating in her room.”

I pulled out the heavy chair next to mine. “Sit with me, Mom.”

The temperature dropped. Sandra’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. For three seconds nobody breathed. Then my mother sat down and folded her hands in her lap like a child waiting to be disciplined.