“I don’t need a lecture,” Lisa sighed. “I need help. You’re my mom. You’re supposed to be there.” Helen swallowed. “I was there. For everything. You only remember me when it’s convenient.”
Silence stretched. When Lisa spoke, the edges of her voice were sharper. “Fine. If that’s how you feel.” The line went quiet, as if even the house refused to make a sound.
Helen stared at the dark phone screen until her reflection steadied. “That stops now,” she said, and meant it in all the ways that mattered.
