“It was a setup.” I’d barely made it through the door after hours spent running around to get here, and this was mom’s greeting.

“What’re you talking about, mom? What was a setup?”

“This whole thing, everything. It was all a setup.” Being here in front of her, I saw that the panic in her voice was nothing compared to the fear in her eyes.

My mom has this habit of pacing back and forth, waving her arms around frantically when she’s stressed. She was doing ...