en

ck, pressing the vibrating phone hard against the small of my spine. My hea

om the floor with my left hand and f

voice trembled, a pathetic, wavering sound born from a

shot and heavy with sleep. He didn't even look at my face

ck with annoyance. He rolled over, pulling the duvet

ades. The dampness soaked right through my c

my right hand pinned behind my back. I took a step backward, then

e heavy wooden door shut. I twisted the lock. The

or air. My lungs burned. I reached over and flicked on the exhaust fan. The loud

o the front. The black iP

ssage from "My Love" was still wa

until they ached, and tapped the banner. The scr

cond video file. Below it, a captio

over the play but

e wallpaper, Angel, was sitting on a brand-new, custom-painted Tre

e!" the boy yelled into the cam

sweet, melodic sound laced with a heavy Texas

ast week, I spent three hours driving across town to buy our son, Cameron, a rusted, fifty-do

hone screen, distorting the ima

sively through the chat history. I foun

written. *Once I get the year-end company options, I

burd

cture scholarship for him. I spent ten years cooking his meals, ironing his shirts, and rais

omach. I dropped to my knees, lung

ed my throat. I coughed, tears and snot running down my face, fee

athing. I dragged myself up to the double vanity and turned on the cold water. I

under her eyes, fine lines forming at the corners, and was wearing a fade

ed up the phone from the counter. I h

was a screenshot of a bank transfer. The amount was $8,000. Th

the community center swimming class. It cost two hundred dollars. Adrian had yelled at me for a

mockery of my entire existence. He hoarded pennies

om rattled. The metal clicked sharply as s

slipping slightly

ugh the wood, thick with morning ir

ut, my stomach i