Five years after my husband’s death, they had apparently decided I’d held the money long enough.

“Are you mad at them?” Alice’s voice pulled me back to the present, her eyes wide with genuine worry.

“No, sweetheart,” I lied, tucking her favorite stuffed penguin closer to her side.

“Grown-ups sometimes talk about complicated things that sound much worse than they really are.

There’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?

Promise?”

She yawned, her eyelids growing heavy.

“I promise.”

“Now it’s late, and you have school tomorrow.

Sweet dreams, my love.”

I kissed her forehead and quietly left the room, closing the door behind me.

Only then did I let the mask slip, my hands trembling as I gripped the wooden hallway banister.

Rebecca was my only child, my last living connection to my late husband, and the main reason I’d kept such a modest lifestyle for so long.

Despite the millions James had left me, I had never once denied her anything she asked for.