It began as an ordinary Thursday — until the phone call that made my blood run cold.
“My key doesn’t work,” my daughter said, her small voice trembling. “I think they changed the lock.”
“Try again, sweetheart,” I told her. “It’s probably just stuck.”
A pause. “Grandma said we don’t live here anymore.”
And just like that, everything I’d been ignoring about my mother finally came into focus.
Locked Out in the Rain
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