What the Money Was For

My mother refused, saying Della was inventing illnesses to squeeze money out of me, and forbade her from telling me anything. Tara monitored her calls to make sure she stayed silent.

With no money, Della had made the decision that broke me to hear: she cut off her long hair and sold it to a wig shop for a hundred and fifty dollars, just to cover bus fare and the cost of the biopsy.

While my mother and sister showed off their gold to the neighbors, my wife had sold her own hair to find out whether she was going to die.

I held her against me and asked her to stay strong for just a few more days.

Then I turned off the lamp, stared up at the ceiling where my mother and sister slept comfortably above us, and made my decision.

They had no idea what was coming.