“You have your nurse manager’s salary, Renee,” I said.

“And Daniel has three months to find a job that pays a steady wage instead of a commission split.”

“You’re throwing out your own son after everything we did to give you a roof?” Renee asked, her index nail digging into the leather cover of her planner.

“You billed me four hundred dollars for a pool pump I never broke,” I said.

“And you spent six weeks collecting my grocery receipts so you could have me declared unfit in court.”