Helen felt her chest tighten. That money—fifty-five thousand dollars—was everything she had left. Decades of washing clothes and selling food, saved little by little and hidden in an old cookie tin beneath her bed. It was her only protection against becoming a burden.
“I… I don’t have much, son,” she whispered, eyes fixed on her shaking hands.
Ashley let out a sharp laugh. “You always play this same game. Acting like you have nothing, but you’re hiding money. That’s selfish.”
The words cut deep. Helen looked at Jason, searching for even a flicker of the boy she once knew. There was nothing.
“I’m drowning in car debt, Mom,” he demanded. “You need to help me. It’s your responsibility.”
Not a request. A command.
“And what about me, Jason?” she asked softly. “What happens if I get sick?”
That was enough to set him off. He slammed his fist onto the table.
“You’re always thinking about yourself! Your whole life you’ve been selfish!”
The accusation stunned her. She, who had gone hungry so he could eat. She, who worked through illness to put him through school. But she stayed silent.
Ashley stepped closer. “Honestly, it’s embarrassing. A mother who won’t even help her own son…”