PART 2:
I couldn’t bring myself to touch the envelope until we got back to my apartment. Ellen sat on my sofa with wet shoes and a tired smile, as if she had done something completely ordinary. I made tea, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
“Auntie, I can’t take this.”
“Of course you can. Rent doesn’t wait for pride.”
“It’s almost all your savings.”
She looked at me with the kind of calm only women have after they have lost plenty and still chosen to stand.
“Family is measured when helping costs something, not when there is plenty left over.”
That was when I broke. I told her the truth. I told her I hadn’t lost my job, that the firm was still open, that the whole story had been a test, and that the lottery ticket hidden behind a trust had already made me a millionaire. I expected anger. I expected disappointment. Ellen simply set her cup down on the table.
“Oh, Madison.”
“Do you hate me?”
“No. It hurts me that you had to create a trap to discover something they have been showing you for years.”
I told her she was the first person to know. Not my mother, not Jenna, no one. Ellen took my hand.
“Then listen to me carefully. You do not owe your prize to people who only loved you with receipts.”
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