Carlos stood up.
“It’s not what you think.”
Mom turned to him. “Is it true?”
That was enough.
She slapped him so hard he staggered.
“Get out of my house.”
“Wait, I didn’t mean for it to go like this.
I know how it looks, but…”
“Get out of my house!” Mom shouted. “Take your lies and get out!”
Carlos hesitated, trying to say something else, but she was already storming toward the hallway.
She grabbed his duffel bag and threw it outside.
“Wait, just let me explain,” he pleaded.
She yanked open the front window, grabbed the rest of his things, his jacket, his shoes, his toothbrush, and hurled them one by one onto the lawn.
“I trusted you!” Mom screamed.
Carlos stood frozen, like he couldn’t decide whether to be ashamed or angry.
But in the end, he said nothing.
Mom locked the door and leaned against it, shaking. I crossed the room and pulled her into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“No,” she said through tears.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you.
I should’ve known.”
She looked at me.
“How did I fall for this?”
“Because you still have a heart.”
“And apparently a terrible radar.”
She touched my face.
“At least I have you.”
“Always.”
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