“Two days after Grandma’s funeral, I was still in her kitchen. Then my brother texted: “”We’re in the Maldives. We can’t access Grandma’s account.”” I said nothing. Good thing I moved Grandma’s $235,000. He panicked when…

…Evan didn’t speak right away.

He just stared at me, like the sentence hadn’t finished forming in his head. Like there was still a version of this moment where I would smile, slide a password across the table, and fix everything for him.

“What do you mean?” he finally said.

I pushed the yellow envelope toward the center of the table, slow enough that the paper whispered against the wood.

“I mean,” I said, “there’s nothing wrong with the account. You just don’t have access to it anymore.”

Leah’s fingers tightened around her tote strap. Evan leaned forward, eyes locked on the envelope like it might still belong to him if he looked hard enough.

“You moved it?” he asked.

I shook my head once. “No. She did.”

That landed.