Twenty-five years. Survival of the fittest. The trees had been replanted three times over. The current ones wouldn't bear fruit until next year.

My mother's voice was sharp with displeasure. "Why haven't you come home to cook?"

"Mom, there are some things I need to sort through."

"Everyone's still hungry. Whatever it is, it can wait until after dinner. Get home. Now."

Home? Which home?

The one that was about to be demolished?

I used to have a home. Because of them, I'd thrown it away with my own hands.

I didn't have a home anymore.

I hung up, but my feet kept moving.

In a daze, I walked to the next village and found myself standing in front of my ex-husband's house.

The door was shut.

Sebastian Perry worked in the city now. He'd taken our son there for elementary school.

The five years I'd lived here were the only happy years I could remember.

I stood there for a while, then turned to leave.

But where was I supposed to go?

The neighbor, Mrs. Chavez, came outside and spotted me. She smiled. "Priscilla! I heard your family's place got demolished and they got eight million. Lucky you!"

"You've worked yourself to the bone for them your whole life. Your mother's gotta give you the lion's share to make up for it."

I smiled but didn't say anything.

Mrs. Chavez came closer and took my hand, lowering her voice. "Sebastian never remarried, you know. Says he can't let you go."

"Once the money's divided up, hire a caretaker for your mom and get back together with him. That boy needs his mother."

"You've given them the best years of your life. It's time you started living for yourself."

My whole body went rigid.

My entire life, I'd been busy for them. Living for them. I couldn't remember a single day I'd taken for myself.

I thought about everything I'd given over the past twenty-five years. The future I'd abandoned. My son's gut-wrenching screams the day of the divorce. My mother's words: You've never contributed to this family.

The tears finally came.

"If I didn't get a single cent, would he still want to remarry me?"

Mrs. Chavez stared. "What did you just say?"

The phone rang again. It was Val.

"Sis, where are you? Why aren't you home yet?"

I told him I'd be back soon.

I wiped my tears and said goodbye to Mrs. Chavez.

Back at the house, I tied the apron on again and picked up the spatula. I walked into the kitchen without a word and started cooking.