Honey and sunshine flood my heart for the first time in weeks. For real? Just like that? After this long and bloody war, her 180-degree turn takes me by such surprise that I can’t stop myself from blurting, “Why?”

“You don’t want it to be over?”

“No! I’m sorry I said it rude like that. I just…What changed your mind?”

Mom closes her eyes, leaving me to twist in agony until she reopens them. “Because my punishments aren’t changing anything.”

Holy sanity! Don’t sass her back, Connor; just smile and nod.

At long, long, long last, Mom slides it across the table to me—my phone, encased in a turquoise shell. My portal to worlds other than this one. I close clammy fingers around my old friend; its cool, metal touch is bliss and already slowing my rapid heartbeat. Without another word, I lift the phone to nourish my eyes with dozens of texts, pictures, and “I miss yous” from Ario.

But there aren’t any. The display stays black. Mom didn’t keep it charged.

Exhaling slowly, she unfolds a crinkled scrap of notebook paper, flattens it beside her uneaten meal, and scans the page. As Mom reads to herself, she inhales deliberately deep, calming breaths. I have no idea if I’m supposed to stay or get out of her sight, so I mumble “Thank you” and slide back my chair.

“I’ve got one last thing to do,” she whispers, eyes still on her paper. I drop back to my seat with nothing to focus on but this ominous pulling sensation in my gut. “I’ve been reading about setting boundaries and ultimatums,”—she swallows—“and I’m gonna read mine to you now.”

“All right,” I say without breath. I’m being kicked out. She’s never been nervous to chew me out before, but all of a sudden, she hands me my phone and can’t stomach eating dinner?

This is it. Ultimatum time.

“Connor,” Mom reads, “it’s clear you’re choosing to reject your responsibilities so you can be with another boy. Whatever you might think is fair, this choice has consequences. This boy, or any boy or man…I won’t meet him. I don’t want to know him in any way. If you…marry a man, I won’t go to the wedding and he won’t belong to our family. If you have more children someday—you buy them or whatever—they won’t belong to our family. You’re always welcome here. But nobody else you’re married to, unless it’s Vicky. These are my terms, and that’s the price of this phone. Do you accept this?”

She looks up, her eyes stained pink.

“Um…fine…sure,” I say, swirling my filthy fork around my plate. Why couldn’t she have just screamed? I don’t even want to cry. The twisting in my stomach has vanished, replaced by a great, big, empty nothingness. Raise a baby that’s not mine—and force my best friend to marry a guy who likes guys—or be alone forever. These are the only choices Mom will allow for me.

“That wasn’t what you expected me to say?” she asks, fluid clogging her eyes and nose. “What did you expect me to say? That none of this matters? That it doesn’t change how I feel about you?”