No one answered. Margaret looked at Elena. “My car is out front. Come.”

“Margaret, are you sure?”

The old woman’s expression softened. “I’ve been sure since the night you stayed by my hospital bed and told a resident twice your size that he was wrong. Since you came back the next morning with clean socks because you’d noticed my feet were cold. Since Mia drew me that crooked little sunflower card and you apologized because it was made with printer paper instead of stationery.”

Mia looked up. “You kept that?”

Margaret smiled. “It’s in my desk drawer.”

Mia’s mouth opened in surprise, as though that mattered far more than the trust or the money or the stunned adults around her.