On the phone with my mom.
“But this is your home, Teodoro.”
“It’s temporary. I was doing so good. I been trying for college, Mami.”
She sniffles. There’s a catch in her throat. It’s like she’s getting herself calm before she talks because she doesn’t want me to know she’s crying.
“Oh, mijo, I know. I’m so proud of you.”
“I can study here. And I’m not afraid to go to sleep.”
No response. I can hear her blow her nose.
“I know it’s hard, Teodoro. But your father—”
“I don’t want this, Mami. I want Manny to be okay. I want everything to be better.”
“I’m sorry, mijo.”
“Don’t be sorry, Mami. I’m sorry.”