PART 1
“If you really want to keep living under this roof, then start paying rent like any adult.”
My mother said it in front of everyone, just as I had arrived home from a double shift at the civil hospital in Guadalajara. My hair was still tied back with a loose band, my sneakers were stained with rain, and my eyes were burning because I had slept no more than three hours. On the table there were dirty dishes, an open school backpack, cereal spilled on the floor, and two children fighting over a tablet.