My mom refused to pick up my sick daughter from school, saying, “i’m not a chauffeur.” my little girl waited 3 hours in the rain with a 104-degree fever. i didn’t argue. instead, i acted. three days later, they were the ones panicking. The school nurse’s words still stabbed in my ears: “Scarlet’s been vomiting… fever at 104… she’s sitting outside… it’s raining.” I had called the one person I thought I could rely on. My mother. Her reply? A laugh. Cold, sharp. “I’m not a chauffeur. You had Scarle