When my 16-year-old son volunteered to care for his disabled grandmother over the summer, I thought it was a sign of growth. But I was wrong. I received a call from my mom—her voice trembling as she whispered, “Please… come save me from him,” before the line went dead. My heart dropped. Something was terribly wrong. Rushing to her house, I found it in chaos: teenagers everywhere,
music blaring, and my mother locked in her room, frail and terrified. My son had taken advantage of her, throwing parties and ignoring her needs. I confronted him,