Mark sank into one of the tall leather chairs beside the white quartz counter.

His posture broke completely, his shoulders slumping forward as he pressed both palms over his face.

“Mom, please look at me,” Mark said, his voice thick and uneven.

“You have every single dollar back now.”

I set my cold tea mug on the quartz counter and stayed standing.

“If David files those formal assault charges with the county prosecutor, it goes on the public court record,” Mark said.

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his eyes wet.