Three days later, Vanguard wired the earnest money.
For the first time in years, I looked at my bank account and did not immediately calculate what my mother might need.
I calculated what my daughters needed.
College.
Security.
A home with enough room for both girls to have their own desks.
Maybe eventually a place with a little yard.
The thought felt almost sinful.
Then I realized how thoroughly Evelyn had trained me.
I could work seventy hours a week without guilt.
I could skip meals without guilt.
I could give away thousands without guilt.
But the moment I imagined using my own money to improve my children’s lives, some voice inside me whispered selfish.
That voice sounded exactly like my mother.
I decided I was done listening to it.
On our final night in Hawaii, the three of us ate shaved ice near the beach.
Maya’s tongue turned blue.
