ADVERTISEMENT
Nobody moved when I finished.
Linda scoffed. “Go ahead. Make me the villain.”
I read the first letter.
Hospice. The ring. Grandma’s choice not to fight. The pawn receipt. The rehab money. The glass stone.
Nobody moved when I finished. The room felt too small.
Linda stood up so fast her chair scraped.
I opened the second letter.
Linda cut in, sharp. “Stop.”
Advertisement
I looked straight at her. “No.”
I read Grandma’s directive. The account. The two signatures. The warning. The reason.
When I finished, my mom let out a breath like she’d been holding it for years.
“We’re done rescuing you.”
Linda stood up so fast her chair scraped.
“So that’s it,” she said, voice shaking. “You all hate me.”
My mom answered first. Quiet. Solid. “We don’t hate you.”
Advertisement
Linda barked a laugh. “Sure.”
My mom’s eyes shone. “We’re done rescuing you.”
