"I don’t feel good. Can I go to the nurse’s office?"
"Yes," said my teacher.

I slowly walked to the nurse’s office, holding the hallway pass, an old piece of wood with the word "Pass" and our homeroom number "102," carved into it. The hallway was hushed and chilly. I knocked on the school nurse’s door.
"Come in," she said. [more]

The judge gave me a stay of execution to make living arrangements for my nine-month-old daughter, Porshai. Then I had to report back to the courthouse to be transported to the Suffolk County House of Corrections.

Before I left the courthouse I used a pay phone to call a Latina friend. "Gina, can you call Danny’s grandmother on the three-way for me?" I needed her to translate for me because Danny’s grandmother only spoke Spanish.

"Tell her I need a place to hide from the police. Ask her if I can stay with her."

"Hold on," Gina said. [more]

My husband looked at the caller ID. “It’s your mother.” I grabbed the phone and stared at it. I wasn’t going to answer. I wasn’t going to answer because I knew she wanted to wish me a happy mother’s day.

But something compelled me to pick up.

“Hello.”

“Lia, happy mother’s day,” she said.

I didn’t want to say it back but I did, “Same to you.”

“Are you getting ready for church?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Enjoy your day,” she said, before hanging up. [more]

While waiting at a red light, I saw my mother and her boyfriend. I rolled down the window and asked, “Where are you going?” She said, “Did Baby Danny get the $5.00?”

A simple question, but not. Mother, daughter, grandson. Family. Recent emotions and events. Mother and sister fighting. My sisters at war. [more]

I opened the email. I read. It caused a memory that nearly paralyzed me.

“AM I RIGHT OR WRONG!?”

He screamed at my mother, squeezing his hands around her throat.

Before he blackened her eye blue, before her face swelled, before she surrendered to be beaten, he demanded an answer.

She never answered.

And I couldn’t reply. [more]