I was still frozen there when Mom stepped up behind me. “Good,” she said, her tone flat. “You’re home.”
I turned, waiting for an explanation, for some terrible misunderstanding to clear. “Mom… what happened to my stuff?”
She looked through me with a coldness I had never seen. “Lauren, you can’t carry your burden here anymore,” she snapped. “You’re almost thirty. I am done waiting for you to figure your life out. Pack up your trash bag and find a new place.”
Her words struck hard. “I just paid the rent,” I said, barely steady. “And Mia’s tuition. You asked me—”
“That money was for this family,” she cut me off. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sharp and icy. “And this family needs room. Mia’s taking your bedroom. She actually has a future. I won’t let you drag her down with your endless drama and bills.” Finished goods store
Mia appeared in the doorway behind her, phone in hand, lip gloss gleaming. “You seriously still here?” she sneered. “Mom, I thought you told her already.”
