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“Then why do you need all that money?” Her eyes narrow to slits, pinning me in place as she gestures toward the empty box on the bed with a flick of her wrist.

“For everything else!” The shout rips out of me, raw and too loud for the small room. The sound hangs in the air, shocking us both.

Mom freezes mid-breath. I never yell. Not at her. My throat burns as if I’ve swallowed glass.

“Books, supplies, housing, transportation—I have to leave, Mom.”

Her face shifts—not hurt, but deeply offended, as if I’ve spit on her doorstep. “Leave?”

“For school.”

“Oh, bullshit.” The words are soft but vicious, like a knife slipped between ribs.

“I got accepted.”

“I know.” She says it like she’s tasted something rotten.

“I have to go.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Her voice drops low, a warning I know well, the kind that usually precedes a slap or a week of silent treatment.

My legs tremble as I push to my feet. “I can’t stay here forever.”

“So that’s what this is.” She takes a step closer, her shadow falling across my face.

“What?”

“You’ve been hiding money from me so you can run off.”

“I’ve been saving.” My voice shakes. I can feel the sweat gathering at the small of my back.

“Same fucking thing.” She takes another step, close enough that I can see the foundation caked in the lines around her mouth.

“No!” The word comes out as jagged as broken pottery.

I stand unsteadily, bracing a hand against the desk. “It’s mine.” My body tenses, every instinct screaming to retreat. I force myself to stay put.

“There you go again.”

“Because it is!” My voice cracks.

She moves closer still. The smell of her perfume—something cheap and floral, like expired air freshener—fills the space between us.

“I worked for years for that.”

“You’re nineteen.” She says it like an accusation.

“I’ve been saving since I was seventeen.”

“And who drove you before you could take the bus?” Her tone is slick with false patience.

“You,” I answer.

“And who fed you?” The question hangs there, bait in still water.

“You’re my mom!” The words explode out before I can stop them, too loud in the small room. Silence crashes down. I can’t believe I said it. Neither can she. Tears stream hot down my cheeks. My voice drops to a whisper. “You were supposed to feed me. You’re my mom…”

Her eyes narrow to dark points. “You ungrateful little shit.”