Chapter 4

In the photo, I was pushing my father-in-law's wheelchair with one hand, my nephew was strapped to my back, and I had two overstuffed grocery bags dangling from my wrists.

It was pouring rain that day. I was drenched head to toe, my hair plastered to my face like a stray dog's.

A neighbor in the building had taken the picture and sent it to me, full of compliments about how dedicated I was. Looking at it now made my stomach turn.

"I don't want anything from you," I said, setting the phone down. "I'm done living like this."

He…