My son slapped me and snarled, “You stupid old woman—remember your place.” I stayed silent, though it broke my heart. The next morning, I made a lavish breakfast. He walked in smirking—until he saw who was sitting at the table. His smile disappeared instantly, because it was the one person he never expected me to call… and the only one he truly fears.

“I want my son back,” she said softly.

“I’ll earn that,” he promised.

Jonathan stood. “Healing is not a moment—it’s a process. I’ll be checking on both of you.”

When he left, the house felt still—not heavy, but new. As if something long overdue had finally cracked open.

The breakfast sat untouched, but Margaret didn’t mind.

For the first time in years… she felt hope.

Sometimes, one moment is enough to change everything