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

It buzzed again.

Kristen.

Then a number I didn’t recognize.

“Don’t pick up unknown calls,” Howard said.

I turned the phone face down.

For the first time that morning, I felt something like grief.

Not for the house or the money.

I had lost money before and made it again.