Kiran sat down next to me, his gaze fixed on the paper. “He and Grandma did all this for us?”
I nodded, tears springing up. “They were trying to make sure we’d be okay, even after… even after they were gone.”
My son looked at the stacks of money. “What are we going to do with it?”
I gave a small laugh through the lump in my throat. “First? Pay off the remaining debts. Maybe finally get the car fixed. After that? I don’t know. Maybe you can finally take that college tour we skipped last year?”
He looked at me and smiled. “You think there’s enough for that?”
I reached out and squeezed his hand. “There’s enough for more than that. You’re going to have choices now, Kiran. Real choices.”
We stayed in that basement for a while longer. I found something else tucked inside the safe — another envelope, this one addressed to Kiran.
He opened it while I watched in silence.
“Hey, buddy,” it began. “I hope you’re taller than I am now. If not, get on that! Seriously, though, I’m writing this because I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I want to make sure you’re ready for what’s next.”
Michael’s letter to our son was filled with advice — some silly, some profound. “Never go to sleep mad.” “Always hold the door.” “Call your mom, even if you have nothing to say.” Then, near the bottom, his handwriting changed, like he’d started writing faster.
“I know life might feel unfair. But I want you to remember this: I trusted you with something big because I knew you could handle it. You were always the strongest one in the room, even when you didn’t realize it. Take care of her, okay?”
Kiran folded the letter slowly and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was holding back tears.
As we locked up the house and stepped back into the twilight, the air felt different, lighter. The years of grief and resentment hadn’t disappeared, but they no longer carried the same weight. Michael and his mother hadn’t just left us behind; they’d left us a way forward.
On the drive home, Kiran sat quietly, but I could feel the shift in him. He was no longer just my boy. He had kept a promise for six years, honored a request he barely understood, and when the time came, he’d stepped up.
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