Every one of them staring at me like I was a criminal.
Sylvester rushed forward and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.
"You can't leave!"
I looked him dead in the eye. "Why not?"
His gaze darted sideways. "You have to take care of Mom. She—"
I cut him off.
"Is she only my mother?"
"I've taken care of her for twenty-five years. Isn't it your turn?"
His brow knotted. "I've got a wife and kids to support. How am I supposed to take care of Mom?"
"Then bring her to your place. Let your wife and kids help."
"Are you out of your mind? Mom can't even take care of herself. Bringing her over would turn my whole house upside down!"
I laughed.
"Mom's been paralyzed for six years. I've waited on her for six years. Since Dad died, I've looked after her for twenty-five years."
"I'm not her only child. She has four of us, doesn't she?"
"But you're the oldest! Taking care of Mom is your responsibility!"
"Besides, Mom's used to having you around—"
Something seized in my chest. My breath caught.
"Sylvester! I'm the oldest, but I'm only one year older than you!"
"There is nothing on this earth I'm obligated to do. I have given everything I have!"
"You're just mad Mom didn't give you any money, so you're picking a fight!"
"Mom's the one who split it up. You can't just drop everything and dump your anger on us because you didn't get a cut!"
I turned and glanced at Mom. Her face had gone white as ash.
"Sylvester, let me ask you something."
"What?"
"Mom's been paralyzed for seven years now. You were already married when it happened. In all that time, have you ever given her a single dollar? Have you taken care of her for even one day?"
He went quiet.
I said:
"No. You haven't given her a cent. And ever since she became paralyzed, your wife and kids haven't even visited once."
"In seven years, I can count on one hand the number of times you've come to see her. And every time, all you brought was a bunch of bananas."
"You just got four hundred thousand dollars. You can hire a proper caregiver for her instead of dumping her on me like it's my obligation."
Sylvester's lips moved, but nothing came out.
Mom pounded the armrest of the couch, her voice choked with tears.
"Let her go! Let her go!"
"Let's see if she's really heartless enough to let her own mother die alone in this house!"
I had two notebooks in my bag. I pulled one out and handed it to Sylvester.