We built Legos, made pancakes, watched a movie.
For the first time in a week, he laughed.
That real, belly-deep laugh that kids have when they feel safe.
And while he was playing, I sat back down at the kitchen table, opened the laptop, and started planning.
Not revenge.
Not yet.
Just clarity.
I went through my finances, my old photos, old text threads with my parents.
I wanted to understand exactly how far this pattern went.
The deeper I looked, the worse it got.
There was a text from Mom a year ago.
“Sorry, we can’t contribute to Lucas’s birthday this time. Things are tight.”
That same week, Melissa had posted a photo of her new kitchen renovation.
“Thanks, Mom and Dad.”
In the caption.
Another year, Mom telling me she couldn’t afford to help with Lucas’s school trip.
Then Melissa tagging them in a photo of a Disney cruise.
