When my 16-year-old son volunteered to spend the summer caring for his disabled grandmother, I felt proud—maybe he was maturing. But one night, I got a call that changed everything. My mother’s voice shook as she whispered, “Please, come save me from him.” Then the line went silent.
Panic surged through me, and my hands trembled as I grabbed my keys and raced out the door. I drove to her remote home in a panic, heart pounding. Her yard was a wreck, and loud music poured from inside…
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