Later that evening, we confronted our mother in the living room. She was sitting by the fireplace, the flickering flames casting shadows across her face. We approached cautiously, unsure of how she would react to our questions.
« Mom, » my brother began, his voice steady but gentle, « we read through the trust amendment. We need to understand why you made these changes. »
She looked up from her book, her expression calm yet guarded. « I did what I thought was best, » she replied simply, her eyes meeting mine with a gaze that held both love and distance.
« But why now? » I asked, my voice tinged with frustration. « Why change everything without telling us? »
She sighed, setting her book down on the side table. « There are things you don’t know, things I can’t explain right now. But trust that I’m doing this for your benefit. »
Her words left us with more questions than answers, but I could see the resolve in her eyes. Whatever her reasons, she believed she was doing the right thing.
We left the conversation feeling uneasy, the trust between us shaken but not broken. As we sat together in the quiet of the evening, my brother and I vowed to keep digging, to uncover the truth behind our mother’s actions.
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