Love.
Use what comes with it wisely.
And never let anyone convince you that the smallest gift means the smallest love.
You were never given less.
You were given what mattered most.
Mom.
By the time I finished reading, tears had covered the page.
Mr. Bennett quietly looked away, giving me privacy.
My phone began ringing.
Lila.
I did not answer.
She called again.
Then messages began appearing.
I’ll give you fifty thousand.
Then:
One hundred thousand.
Finally:
We can divide the estate equally. That would be fair.
I stared at the screen.
Fair.
She had inherited the house and laughed while I carried away a cardboard box.
She had told me our mother’s gift proved I was unloved.
Now that the shawl had value, she wanted fairness.
I turned off the phone.
Mr. Bennett helped me complete the final trust documents.
The money was transferred several months later.
Lila threatened legal action, but the trust was clear.
There was nothing she could challenge.
For a while, nearly every relative contacted me.
Some apologized.
Some demanded explanations.
Some claimed Grandmother had been manipulated.
Others insisted Mother had been confused.
