I thought she meant college.
Apparently she meant Friday night.
I looked at the suitcase.
“You packed my stuff?”
“Some of it.”
“Why?”
Her mouth trembled.
“Please, sweetheart.”
I hated how scared she looked.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you throwing me out?”
“I’m not.”
“You’re literally standing here with my suitcase.”
Her eyes filled.
“Please don’t make this harder.”
That made me angry.
“For you?”
She flinched.
I regret that now.
At the time, I didn’t.
“Tomorrow is Richard’s birthday,” I said. “Is this because he doesn’t want me here?”
“No.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She looked toward the stairs again.
I lowered my voice.
“Is he threatening you?”
Her entire face changed. Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“Mom.”
She grabbed my arm.
“Go tonight.”
“Come with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
Then she whispered, “Ashley, if you’ve ever trusted me about anything in your life, trust me now.”
