Part 6 — Melinda’s Choice
Three weeks later, Melinda came to my house.
She stood on the porch holding a cardboard box.
“I brought something.”
“What?”
She handed it to me.
Inside were several envelopes.
“Those are mine?”
“Yes.”
I opened the first.
It was a collection of old letters Grandma had written to Melinda.
Not about money.
About life.
About mistakes.
About becoming responsible.
One letter was dated shortly before Grandma died.
Melinda read it aloud.
“Money can rescue you from a bad day. It cannot rescue you from a bad life.”
She stopped.
Her voice broke.
“I never listened.”
I looked at her.
“You can now.”
She nodded.
“I want to.”
For the first time, my sister wasn’t asking me for anything.
She wasn’t asking me to save her.
She wasn’t asking me to share my house.
She was asking for forgiveness.
“I was jealous of you,” she said.
“I know.”
“I thought Grandma loved you more.”
“She loved us differently.”
“I thought because you were younger, you didn’t deserve as much.”
I smiled sadly.
“Grandma never measured love in dollars.”
Melinda wiped her eyes.
“I know that now.”
Then she told me something I hadn’t expected.
She had spoken to investigators.
She had given them everything she knew.
Including the conversation Dad had had with her about the forged note.
She had also admitted that Mom had asked her to support the lawsuit.
“Why?”
“Because Mom said if I didn’t, we’d lose everything.”
I stared at her.
“And what do you want now?”
She looked toward my living room.
“I want to earn my own.”
That was the first time I believed her.
