I felt the ground shift beneath my feet, because that explanation, although incomplete, raised more questions than it answered.
“What debt are you talking about?” I asked, trying to remain calm.
She avoided my gaze, something she rarely did, and that confirmed that what was coming would not be easy to hear.
“To pay for your studies… I borrowed money,” he confessed. “More than I should have.”
My mind went blank for a moment, trying to process that information, to fit it with everything I thought I knew.
“That was years ago,” I replied. “It should be paid for by now.”
My mother shook her head slowly, and an expression appeared on her face that I had never seen before: a mixture of pride and shame.
—Interest rates increased… and I kept asking for more to cover the previous amount —he said.
I felt a pressure in my chest, because that story wasn’t just financial, it was a chain of decisions that was now falling on us.
“And Hue?” I asked. “Why does she have to pay for that?”
