Sometimes Silence Is the First Sound of a New Life
Daniel had no answer.
“When you want me to see my grandchildren, bring them to my apartment. With respect. No shouting. No asking for money. No using my love as a wallet.”
Rebecca muttered, “So dramatic.”
Margaret finally looked at her. “No, Rebecca. Dramatic was leaving a seventy-three-year-old woman alone on Thanksgiving with a note on the refrigerator.
This is called consequence.”
And she walked toward the taxi without looking back.