Not because they erased what happened.
They didn’t.
But because for once, someone wasn’t asking me to fix it.
They were acknowledging that they had broken it.
Mom squeezed my hand.
“I never should have told you to disappear.”
I smiled sadly.
“No.”
“You really were willing to leave.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I looked at her.
“Because sometimes the only way people understand your value is when you stop making their lives easier.”
She nodded slowly.
Then she asked:
“Would you ever move back?”
I laughed.
“No.”
She laughed too.
“I
