After the hearing, Denise cornered me.
“You just wanted to make sure nobody could touch Vicky’s money,” she accused.
I looked at her.
“No,” I said.
“The money belongs to Vicky.”
That was all.
There was nothing else I needed to explain.
That evening, after Vicky had gone to sleep, I sat on the edge of my bed and opened my backpack.
Inside was an old college envelope.
My acceptance information.
The same envelope Denise had pointed to when she told people I had thrown away my future.
For months, I had believed that maybe she was right.
Maybe college was over.
Maybe the life I had planned was gone.
Maybe being Vicky’s guardian meant giving up everything I had once wanted.
But that night, I looked at the envelope differently.
