Part 10: My Son Called It A Tour—But Rosewood Already Had An Application In My Name

I gave him a look.

He lifted both hands.

“Just checking.”

We both laughed.

Then I handed him a bowl of salad and told him to set the table.

He did not ask where I planned to live next year.

Neither did I.

For the first time, the future felt open instead of arranged. I learned that consent mattered more than convenience, especially inside families.

I was finally allowed to decide slowly.