It wasn’t a visit—she was trying to take him. When I demanded to know what she was doing, she didn’t deny it. She said she was taking “her son,” as if those words alone erased the years she had been gone.
Mason ran straight into my arms, clinging to me, his fear unmistakable. I told her to leave—immediately—and this time there was no room for negotiation. As she walked out, she threatened to take me to court, but her words didn’t shake me.
Holding Mason, feeling him slowly calm down, I understood something with absolute clarity: she wasn’t coming back out of love. She was trying to claim something she had abandoned. And no matter what it took, I wasn’t going to let her take him from the only home he had ever truly known.
