Chapter 1
When my mom won a million dollars on a lottery ticket, she handed each of her three kids an envelope.
My younger brother and sister each pulled out a bank card.
Mine held two one-dollar coins that clinked onto the floor.
Mom caught my expression and shifted uncomfortably. “Cashin,” she said carefully, “Logan and Sienna had it really rough after your dad died so young. I gave them each five hundred grand to make up for that. You’re the oldest. You’ve always been like a father to them. Don’t make this a fight, okay?”
I looked down at my beat-up jacket, so worn out it had basically lost its color. Then I glanced at Logan’s limited-edition sneakers and Sienna’s designer bag.
Mom seemed to have completely forgotten that when Dad died, I was only eight years old too.
I gave her a small smile. “Sure. I won’t fight over it.”
Mom let out a huge sigh of relief.
Then my voice went cold.
“And I won’t fight over taking care of you when you’re old either.”
“Cashin, what is that supposed to mean?” Mom’s eyes turned red, her voice shaking. “You’re cutting me off? Over a million dollars?”
“Mom, I’m not cutting you off,” I said calmly. “From here on out, the three of us split your expenses. Rent, medical bills, medication, everything. We’ll also take turns looking after you. You’re everyone’s mother. I can’t keep carrying all the responsibility by myself.”
The two coins were still sitting on the floor, catching the light.
Mom panicked.
“That won’t work. Your brother and sister would be run into the ground.”
“How?” I asked.
“I’ll drop your things off tomorrow. Four months at each house, that’s a full year.”
That was when she realized I was dead serious.
She went pale. “They’re still young. They don’t know how to take care of someone. My stomach’s always been bad. I need soup every morning. Sienna has her own kids to deal with. And I need to go to the hospital every Monday for my leg. Is Logan really going to take time off for that? And the insulin shots every day—do they even know how to do that? Their salaries aren’t like yours, Cashin. How are they supposed to afford it?”
A slow, bitter smile crossed my face.
She had always known exactly what my wife and I had been doing for her.
She just never thought it mattered, because it was us.
“They can learn,” I said. “They’ve each got five hundred grand now. Spending a little on their own mother shouldn’t be a problem.”