I asked my son-in-law to turn the music down because it was driving me crazy, and in front of his friends he said to me, “This is my house, you crazy old woman. If you don’t like it, there’s the door.” My daughter looked down. So did I. But instead of crying, I opened my purse, took out a piece of paper that had been folded for 23 days, and laid it on the table…

I wept silently because for the first time in my life, I felt like a complete stranger in the very home that I had sacrificed everything to create and maintain. The next morning I pulled out my old accounting ledger and began to calculate exactly how much money I had loaned to Shelby over the last three years.

I saw the entries for five hundred dollars, then two thousand, and then an emergency payment of eight thousand that Tyson supposedly needed for a business venture. When I finally reached the bottom of the page, the total amount of money they owed me was over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars of my hard earned savings.

That same Monday morning while I was pinning a hem for a long time client, I looked out the window and saw Tyson walking through my backyard with a stranger. He was pointing at the land and the workshop with a wide grin on his face as if he were a real estate agent showing off a prime piece of investment property.