I thought I had reached the lowest point of my life

I thought I had reached the lowest point of my life when the eviction notice appeared on my doorstep, its cold wording announcing that we had thirty days to disappear. I believed that was rock bottom. I was wrong.

Rock bottom, it turned out, was only the beginning.

I never imagined that a single envelope—thin, ordinary, and silent—could unravel my despair and rewrite my future.

“Mom, you’re doing it again.”