She inhaled slowly, then reached for my hand.
“I owe everything to you, sweetheart. Everything.
Let me start packing.”
When I told the kids what was going on, Liana didn’t ask any questions. She just walked into her room and started folding her clothes. One drawer at a time.
She wasn’t angry, not in the way teenagers usually are — she was just…
done.
“I don’t want him to fetch me from school, Mom,” Liana said quietly. “Can you make sure of that?”
“Yes, baby. I’ll fetch you both.
I promise.”
Leo lingered at the door, arms crossed. “If Dad texts me, I’m blocking him.”
I started to tell my son maybe he didn’t need to be so final, but I just nodded.
“I don’t want his fake check-ins,” Leo added. “Not if he doesn’t mean them.”
We packed quickly.
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