Her sister Nora brought flowers. Alicia smiled throughout the ceremony. Nora adjusted the scarf twice before squeezing my hand.
“Thank you. You gave her something. I mean it.”
For a little while, the room had seemed different from the ward where we usually delivered disappointing news. The wedding gave Alicia a chance to decide how one afternoon would unfold. I focused on that smile and ignored the questions I should have asked.
I left believing I’d helped.
***
Alicia died two days later.
At the funeral, I stood behind people who’d loved her all her life, uncertain where I belonged.
Afterward, Nora hurried toward me beside my car, carrying a sealed box.
“She asked me to give you this only after she was gone.”
Alicia had written my name on its lid.
I opened it while Nora watched. Inside was a lawyer’s letter: Alicia had left me her share of her grandmother’s inheritance.
