Not Every Home Is Meant to Be Returned To novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Waiver at the Diner

My mother walked into the diner on Wednesday at the busiest minute of the lunch rush.

I was at the dish station with soap up to my elbows, and I saw her through the pass-through window.

She wore her good blue blazer and her gold watch, and she smiled at the hostess.

The hostess smiled back, because nobody who meets my mother expects her to be what she is.

"Just a coffee," Mom said. "And I'd like to speak to my daughter."

Kenzie's mom looked at me through the window.

I dried my hands and nodded.

I came out and stood by the counter in my apron.

Mom patted the stool next to her.

"Sit, sweetheart."

"I'll stand."

"Hazel, you're making this harder than it needs to be."

The regulars had stopped eating.

There were maybe twenty of them, the old men by the window and two nurses from the clinic and the pastor's wife.

My mother lowered her voice to a tone that carried exactly as far as she wanted.

"I came to forgive you," she said. "I know you're confused. I know you've been listening to people who don't have the family's best interest at heart."

"Which people?"

"People who put things on the internet."

She drew a folded page from her handbag and laid it on the counter beside my hand.

"Sign this and everything goes back to normal. Your room, your meals. I'll even give you two thousand dollars for graduation."

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