We live in the same space, my mother and I. But we are like strangers under one roof. Our only exchanges are the meals she cooks and leaves for me on our dining table. No hellos, no goodbyes, and no ‘I love you’. Silence permeates our house as I watch her, knowing that beneath the deafening silence lies a secret that weighs heavily on her, keeping her from speaking. But am I ready to hear what she has to say?