When my 17-year-old daughter passed away from a rare heart condition, her closest friend Lucas was the one who never left my side. He showed up at every hospital stay, stayed with me during those endless nights. After she was gone, Lucas kept checking in, helped me through the grief, and even put his own dreams of college on hold to support his single mother.
My own family? Ghosts. Always “too busy” or “something came up.” At a family gathering, my cousin bluntly asked, “So, what’s the plan with her college savings?” I said, “It’s going to Lucas.”
She lost it, “WHAT?!
WHO?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” My aunt chimed in, “That money should stay in the family!”
My uncle sneered, “You’re insane to hand over $30,000 to some kid you barely know.”
I kept my cool and said, “Fine. I’ll give it to you—but only if…”
They all leaned in, suddenly interested.
Greed will make people’s ears perk up faster than love ever will. I looked at my cousin and said, “If you can prove you visited her at least once in the hospital during those six months. Show me a photo, a text, anything.” Dead silence.
You could’ve heard the refrigerator humming in the background. My cousin’s face turned pink. She muttered, “Well, I was busy.”
I turned to my aunt.
“You can have it if you can tell me the name of her favorite book. She carried it everywhere.” My aunt’s lips pressed tight like she’d swallowed a lemon. She said, “What does that have to do with anything?”
I looked at my uncle.
“It’s yours if you can tell me what her dream job was.” His smug grin faded. He stammered, “She… wanted to be… a doctor?” My chest hurt, but not from grief this time. My daughter wanted to be a teacher.
She said she wanted to change lives the way one of her favorite teachers had changed hers. I sat back and folded my arms. “See, that’s the problem.
None of you knew her. Not one of you bothered to. Lucas did.
He’s the one who carried her to the car when she was too weak to walk. He’s the one who read that book out loud when she couldn’t see straight from the meds. He’s the one who listened to her dreams and promised to keep them alive.
That’s why he gets the savings.”
They didn’t like that answer. My cousin stormed out, muttering under her breath. My aunt called me heartless.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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