They parked me beside a fake plant at the airport… so I bought a one-way ticket, built a new life, and now they’re showing up with “concern” that feels like a trap They told me, “Stay in the lounge, Grandma. We’ll come back for you after check-in.” I nodded the way you do when your son uses that clipped, over-patient voice—like you’re fragile, like you’re slow, like you’re in the way. I sat where they placed me, wedged beside a dusty potted plant, listening to a toddler wail and a TV hiss weathe