We had money, but I never saw a dollar of it.
I rubbed my eyes and looked at the photograph of my parents again.
“I’m trying, Mom,” I whispered. “I really am.”
My phone buzzed against the table. The screen showed Grandma’s house. I almost did not pick up.
“Hello?”
“Emily, it’s Linda.”
Linda had been my grandmother’s housekeeper since before I was born. She always answered the phone first, always with that careful, measured tone.
My phone buzzed against the table.
“Your grandmother wants to speak with you,” Linda continued. “Hold on.”
There was a long shuffle, the sound of a chair creaking, then a thinner voice than I remembered.
“Emily.”
“Grandma. Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not.”
I gripped the phone tighter. She did not waste words. She never had.
