slowly sat down in her chair.
“Yes.”
“You never cashed them.”
“No.”
I felt anger rising inside me.
Not because of the money.
Because of the secrecy.
“Why?”
She stared out the window.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she smiled sadly.
“Because I knew one day you’d need it.”
I blinked.
“What?”
She patted the chair beside her.
“Sit down, sweetheart.”
I sat.
Confused.
Frustrated.
Scared.
She reached for my hand.
“When your father died, I saw what happened.”
“What happened?”
“You stopped living.”
I looked away.
