The fortune was never the legacy.

The fortune was the thing that had poisoned the well.

The legacy was the sapling planted for a child too young to know it was planted for him, the door opened ten minutes after it was slammed, the fear lifted from the ones who came after.

That is what a life is actually for.

It took a man nearly dying to teach me, and it took him nearly dying to learn it himself.

But we both learned it, in that garden, under those flowering trees, and I have never let it go.