“We’ve decided to help with Oliver’s college,” my mother-in-law said calmly, setting down her glass.
I expected a modest contribution.
“Eighty thousand dollars,” my father-in-law added.
I actually laughed, thinking I misheard him.
“Eighty thousand,” he repeated. “We want him to have options. The best schools. No debt.”
My husband beamed. Relief flooded his face. But Oliver sat very still, staring at his plate.
That should have been my first warning.
Over the next week, my son changed. He became quiet, withdrawn. The easy laughter disappeared. He went straight to his room after school and barely touched his dinner.
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