My Son Struck Me Thirty Times at His Birthday Dinner. The Next Morning, I Sold the Mansion He Thought He Owned.

Howard raised an eyebrow.

I leaned back in my chair.

“Good morning to you too, Kristen.”

“You think this is funny?

You think you can humiliate us over one little argument?”

“One little argument,” I repeated.

“You embarrassed me in front of my friends,” Trevor snapped.

I touched my split lip with my tongue.