I had never felt such intense rage in my entire adult life.
My mother looked at me with cold, sharp, unfeeling eyes today.
"She needs to clean this house," Brenda said with a snap.
"She is running a high fever, you cruel woman!" I roared back.
Evelyn was sobbing quietly behind me, her small shoulders shaking violently.
I reached behind my back and grabbed her cold, trembling hands tight.
"You have crossed a terrible line today," I said, stepping closer.
"I am your mother, Mark!" Brenda shouted, raising her chin high.
"You will not speak to me with that disrespectful tone today!"
"You do not act like a mother," I said with cold disgust.
"A real mother shows love, care, and basic human compassion," I added.
"You are a monster who harms helpless people in their beds," I said.
Brenda gasped loudly and slapped her hands against her red cheeks.
"How dare you say such awful things to me!" she screamed loudly.
"I raised you all by myself when times were very hard!"
"That gives you no right to abuse my wife," I answered firmly.
"I am done listening to your endless lies and excuses," I said.
I pointed a shaking finger directly toward the open bedroom door.
"Pack your heavy bags and get out of my house right now," I said.
Brenda stared at me as if she had been hit by lightning.
"You are throwing your own mother out?" she asked in disbelief.
"For this worthless girl?" Brenda added, glaring past my shoulder.
"She is my family now," I said with absolute complete certainty.
"You have five total minutes to clear your things and leave," I warned.
Brenda huffed loudly and stomped her feet out toward the hallway.
I turned around immediately and fell to my knees beside Evelyn.