A Promise I Never Wanted to Keep
For most of my life, I believed my mother had chosen a homeless man over me.
Even after her death, I continued bringing meals to him only because I had promised her I would. I didn’t understand why she cared so much about Victor, the man who lived behind our house in a makeshift shelter built from scrap wood and tarps.
Then, the day after her funeral, everything I thought I knew fell apart.
When I arrived carrying a container of beef stew, Victor wasn’t sitting beside his weathered shelter.
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