3 septembre 2026

When my father saw me limping with my baby on the street, he quietly said: “Get in. Tonight we fix this.”

“His mom took it,” I muttered. “She said since we’re staying in her house, I should be grateful.”

For a moment, Dad simply stared at me.

“Who took it?” he asked slowly.

“Daniel’s mom. Linda.”

The air shifted.

“The car you’re paying for?” he asked.

For illustrative purposes only
“It’s in Daniel’s name,” I admitted quietly. “She says if I’m under her roof, she decides who drives it.”

Dad blinked once. His jaw tightened.

“You’re living under her roof?”

“After Daniel lost his job, we couldn’t keep our apartment. They offered to let us stay… temporarily.”

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