Melissa stood before Kara’s grand house, her hand gripping the small gift bag tightly. A knot twisted in her stomach. Two years had passed since Mark’s death, and in that time, his mother had barely acknowledged her presence. Mark’s siblings, however, still reached out from time to time, including her in family events, though she wasn’t technically part of the family anymore. Melissa always appreciated the inclusion, and when Kara invited her to the birthday party, she felt she had no choice but to attend. “You can do this, Melissa,”

I always thought my childhood was perfect—full of love, warmth, and honesty. My parents were my heroes. I never once questioned how lucky I was to grow up in a home like that. But everything changed one quiet evening. It was a normal weekend. I had come over for dinner, like I usually did. The house smelled like Mom’s cooking—warm spices and garlic filled the air. Soft music played in the background, the same playlist they always used for Sunday dinners. Everything felt safe. Familiar. We sat around the kitchen

For years, I had tried to visit my mom, but each time, she always had another excuse. I was tired of the distance and the unanswered questions. I had reached my breaking point. One night, I couldn’t sleep, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t shake. My heart ached in ways I couldn’t explain, so I made a decision. I booked a ticket and told myself that I wasn’t going to wait for another call, another excuse. I was going to see her—no calls, no warnings. My mom and I