“Mom, your Social Security check is only so much. And with the cost of living these days, Jessica and I are under a lot of pressure. It’s only right that you help out with the chores around the house, don’t you think?”

I looked up at the son I had raised. When he had a fever as a child, I stayed up with him for three days and three nights. When he went to college, I scrimped and saved to buy him a laptop. When he got married, I gave him my entire life savings for the down payment on this house in our U.S. suburb. And now he stood before me, his eyes cold and indifferent, as if he were looking at a stranger renting a room.

“I understand,” I said softly. I placed the dish rag on the table, stood up, and brushed off my cardigan. “You two go on to work. I’ll take care of things here.”