I already had a feeling I wouldn’t like where this was going.
She sat across from me and got straight to the point. “I want half of the money Mom left you. Weddings are expensive, and since I gave up three years of my life to take care of her, I think it’s fair.”
I stared at her, convinced I must have heard wrong.
“That money is for my education,” I said slowly. “Mom made that clear.”
She scoffed. “Education can wait. Family can’t.”
My chest tightened. “I was finishing high school while Mom was sick. I was helping too.”
“Please,” she snapped. “You went to school. I was here. I sacrificed my twenties. I think it’s time you start prioritizing your family over your studies.”
The irony nearly took my breath away.
This was the same person who had reminded me for years that I wasn’t her “real” sister. The same one who excluded me from holidays with her dad’s relatives. The same person who once told me, “We’re not blood, so don’t expect loyalty.”
And now I was supposed to pay for her dream wedding?
“I’m not giving you the money,” I said firmly.
She jumped up so quickly her chair scraped loudly across the floor. “You’re selfish.”
And just like that, she walked out of my life.
We haven’t spoken since.
A few days later, I went into Mom’s bedroom to begin the painful task of sorting through her things. Her scent still lingered in the air — lavender mixed with something soft I couldn’t quite identify. I stood in front of her mirror, and that’s when I noticed it: a thin envelope taped to the corner of the frame.
My name was written on it in her handwriting.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a short note: “If your sister asks you for money, go see your aunt. She has something for you. Only open it after that conversation.”
My heart started pounding. It was as if Mom had known.
Almost right on cue, the doorbell rang.
When I opened the door, my aunt was standing there, her expression gentle but serious. She hugged me tightly and then handed me a small box.
“Your mom asked me to give this to you after she passed,” she said.
“Why now?” I asked.
“Because she said you’d know when the time was right.”
I brought the box inside and opened it on the kitchen table.
It was filled with receipts.
Stacks and stacks of them.
