Mrs. Miller

Jason had made sure to lock his door properly while leaving for work in the morning, so who could have access to open it except his own mother?

He sighed as he slowly turned to face the woman.

"Mrs. Miller," he whispered.

"Anybody hearing you call me this name would think that I'm a stranger to you." The woman smiled.

She looked so beautiful in the peach-colored gown that adorned her tall, slender figure. Although she was already in her early fifties, she still looked young as elegance radiated off of her.

However, no matter how beautiful she looked, Jason could still see the sadness in her eyes. No amount of make-up could disguise the truth, which was obvious to him. She was only hanging on in that marriage, and although she wanted to be rescued, she had no choice but to hold herself back as her punishment for mistreating her own children.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Jason asked, taking a seat on the couch.

"Why do you look like you have seen a ghost? Can't I visit my own son