The call came just after Titus finished a long shift.
He almost didn’t pick it up.
Not because he didn’t recognize the number.
But because he already knew what it would feel like before he answered.
Home never called to check on him.
Home called to take from him.
Still… he answered.
“Where are you?” his mother’s voice came immediately.
No greeting.
No warmth.
Just urgency.
“I just finished work,” Titus replied quietly.
A pause.
Then her tone sharpened.
“Work? What work is more important than your family?”
Titus closed his eyes briefly.
Because that question was no longer unfamiliar.
Only heavier every time.
His father’s voice joined in the background.
“Put it on speaker.”
Titus did.
Now it wasn’t just one demand.
It was a system.
“You have not sent anything this week,” his mother said.
“I haven’t been paid yet,” Titus replied.
A sharp laugh.
Not amused.
Dismissive.
“You are in the city now,” she said. “Do not insult us with excuses.”
Titus didn’t respond.
Because anything he said was already decided against him.
Then came the sentence that shifted everything again.
“Your brother is joining a program in town,” his father said. “He needs accommodation and support.”
Silence.
Titus blinked slowly.
“And I am expected to handle that?” he asked.
His mother answered immediately.
“Yes. You are already there.”
As if proximity equaled responsibility.
As if existence equaled obligation.
Titus lowered his head slightly....