My mother sat in the main room and nodded with satisfaction.

"See? I told you. Your big sister can handle anything. She's not the type to throw a fit over a little demolition money."

My siblings stood off to the side, quietly breathing sighs of relief.

At dinner, Pat held a bowl and spooned food into Mom's mouth.

Mom watched her, her tone casual, as if she were asking about the weather.

"Pat, the demolition compensation came through. Take two hundred thousand and buy me a place in town."

"Somewhere close to the hospital, so your big sister can take care of me."

Pat froze. She glanced at me, then lowered her head. "Okay."

Mom swallowed a mouthful of rice and kept going.

"From now on, you'll give me ten thousand a month."

"The doctor said if I stick with physical therapy, I might be able to walk again."

Pat's brow furrowed. She looked up at Sylvester and Val across the table, both of them shoveling food into their mouths without a care in the world.

"How long would the therapy take?" she asked quietly.

"I've been paralyzed for six years. Could be six or seven more years at best. Maybe ten before there's any real improvement."

Pat set her bowl and chopsticks down hard.

"Mom, I don't want the demolition money. Keep it yourself."

Mom glared at her. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm too much trouble?"

Pat's face turned beet red, but she couldn't get a single word out.

I had no appetite. I set down my chopsticks, my voice steady.

"Mom, the compensation's been paid out. Have them hire a caretaker for you."

"I'm leaving. I can't take care of you anymore."

Mom went rigid.

"Leaving? Where?"

"The city. I'm going to find work."

"What the hell has gotten into you, Priscilla!"

Her voice shot up, shrill and panicked. "If you leave, what happens to me?"

Her eyes swept the room. "They got their share of the money. They won't just abandon you."

At that, Sylvester and Val finally lifted their heads, staring at me in stunned disbelief.

Mom's eyes reddened, her voice cracking. "Over a little bit of money, you're going to throw a tantrum and abandon your own mother?"

I looked at her.

"Mom, I've taken care of you for twenty-five years. I've taken care of this family for twenty-five years."

"I'm tired. I can't do it anymore."

Before she could respond, I stood and walked into the bedroom to pack.

When I came out with my suitcase, they were all standing by the door.