“I miss you! When are you coming?
Daddy says you’re always too busy. I want to show you my purple room!”
I was stunned.
Too busy?
Before I could say anything, I heard Marcus. “Emma, give me the phone!” He jumped on the line, muttered something about confusion, and hung up. That was it.
I flew to Denver unannounced.
When I pulled into their driveway, I was stunned.
The lawn was pristine, and a new BMW sparkled in the driveway. Definitely not a family on the verge of foreclosure.
I rang the bell. Rebecca’s voice floated from inside: “Marcus, can you get that?
I’m arranging flowers for tonight’s dinner party!”
Marcus’s face paled when he saw me.
“Mom? Why are you here?”
“I wanted to surprise the kids.”
“The kids are at birthday parties,” he said too quickly. “Separate ones,” Rebecca added.
Every time I tried to schedule a visit, there was another excuse.
It was clear I wasn’t welcome. That night, I began digging.
Rebecca hadn’t lost her job—she’d gotten promoted. They had bought the BMW two months earlier.
I even saw Emma and Tyler playing in the yard that weekend.
They had lied. 
I called Marcus. “Is Rebecca working?” I asked.
“Yes, but—”
“You’re throwing parties, driving a BMW, and lying about needing money.”
“Mom,” he snapped, “you don’t get to judge how we spend our money.”
That was when I knew.
I wasn’t their mother anymore. I was just their creditor.
Later, Marcus suggested I move in with them. “It’ll save you money,” he said.
“And you can help out—cook, watch the kids… maybe let the loan go, since you’ll be living with us.”
He wanted a free nanny, not a housemate.
I said no. 
“Selfish,” he said. “We’re giving you a chance to be close to your grandkids.”
“I’m choosing dignity,” I replied.
After months of silence, they invited me on a family road trip.
I hesitated but agreed. Maybe they were making amends.
But during the drive, Rebecca brought it up again: “You don’t really need that money, right?”
Marcus chimed in: “Is money really more important than family?”
Later, we stopped at a scenic overlook on Highway 85.
I stepped out to stretch my legs. When I turned around, the car doors slammed shut.
Marcus rolled down the window.
“Mom, we think you need time to reflect. Good luck getting home.”
They left me without my bag, medication, or phone. I stood there in disbelief.
Shaking, I walked to the gas station.
The attendant, Jake, helped me call my sister Helen. While waiting, I noticed $800 in charges on my credit card, made after I’d been left behind.
They had stolen from me again. Helen arrived and held me tight.
“You’re done protecting them,” she said.
That night, I called my lawyer. “I want to call in the loan.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I’ve never been more certain.”
A week later, Marcus and Rebecca were served with a formal demand. They responded with threats and manipulation.
But I didn’t bend.
Eventually, I uncovered everything—the gambling debts, the fake unemployment story, even a scheme to frame me as mentally unfit. I had been their mark.
But no more. Now, Emma and Tyler live with Helen and me.
We bought a home together and built a life rooted in trust.
The kids are thriving. 
And me? I’m 71.
I’ve lost a son, but I’ve gained a family that truly loves me.
Marcus and Rebecca thought they’d broken me. Instead, they set me free.
