Kobe glanced at me, searching my face, and I knew what he feared most — that maybe his uncle was right, and our life was something to be ashamed of.

I refused to argue. I refused to raise my voice. Instead, I looked at my mother. She had watched Sailor pull the alarm. She had watched Kobe cry. She had listened while Gage mocked my work, my home, and my son.

And she stayed silent. That silence answered every question I still had.

“All right,” I said finally.

Gage laughed. “That’s it?”

“For now.”