“You were always gonna leave me, Grace. Everybody leaves. Your father left. Trevor moved to Nashville. Everybody. I just made sure you couldn’t.”

“You poisoned me.”

“I took care of you. Every single day. Twenty minutes each way. I never missed.”

“You made me sick so you could take care of me.”

She smiled. That same smile. “And didn’t I do a good job?”

I stood up. I walked out. I didn’t say goodbye.

My neighbor Wanda has been bringing me food. Real food. No Corelle bowls. She uses paper plates and I’m grateful for that.

I’m getting stronger. Dr. Parekh says the thallium is clearing my system. My energy is coming back. I drove myself to the grocery store last week for the first time in three years. I cried in the parking lot. Not because I was sad. Because I could carry the bags.

Trevor calls every day now. He’s angry. He’s trying to make it make sense. It doesn’t make sense. It will never make sense.

My mother’s trial is in June. I will be there. I will sit in the front row. I will look at her face.

I threw out the Corelle bowls. All of them. I put them in a garbage bag and carried them to the dumpster behind my building. They didn’t break. Corelle never breaks. I had to put them in a box and hit them with a hammer first.

That felt right.

It’s Thursday. 4:17 PM. The time Dr. Parekh called. I notice that time every week now. The microwave clock blinks past it and my hands go still for just a second.

Then I keep going. Because I can now.

Would you have gone to see your mother after finding out? What would you have said? Tell us in the comments.