“Why would you think I’d help you?” I asked coldly.
There was a pause.
Then he said two words.
“Child support.”
My smile disappeared.
“You think I can support eight kids with nothing?” he said sharply. “If my mother cuts me off, I lose my salary. If I have no income, the court can’t force me to pay.”
I stayed silent, doing the math in my head.
Eight children.
Eight futures.
Eight college funds.
This wasn’t karma anymore.
This was a problem.
“So unless you suddenly have the money to support them yourself,” he continued, “you’d better convince my mother.”
I closed my eyes.
“Fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll talk to her.”
The next morning I drove to Margaret’s large house overlooking the river.
My hands were shaking when I rang the doorbell.
She opened the door herself.
We stared at each other for a long moment.
Then I did something I never thought I would do.
I dropped to my knees.
