The doorbell chimed right as I was reaching for a handful of chips from the bag Mom had left on the counter.

I froze mid-reach, my heart performing that frantic, stuttering skip it seemed to do at every unexpected sound lately. Mom had literally just walked back in from her errands, dropped her bags, and pressed a distracted kiss to the top of my head as if I were still ten years old. Then, her phone had pinged.

“Karen texted—emergency mani-pedi crisis,” she’d said, already jingling her keys. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Don’t burn the house down!” And she was gone before I could even voice...