I thought my mother had spent twenty years choosing a homeless man over me. Even after she died, I kept feeding Victor only because I had promised her. But when he showed me her missing locket, I learned Mom had not been hiding kindness from me. She had been hiding family.
The day after my mother’s funeral, the homeless man behind our house was gone.
For most of my childhood, Victor had lived behind our little rental in a shelter made of tarps and scrap wood. My mother had fed him every day.
When I came back with the meal she had begged me to bring him, Victor was standing beside a black SUV in a clean coat, holding my mother’s silver locket.
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