The neighbor, Mrs. Chavez, came outside and spotted me. She smiled. "Priscilla! I heard your family's place got demolished and they got eight million. Lucky you!"
"You've worked yourself to the bone for them your whole life. Your mother's gotta give you the lion's share to make up for it."
I smiled but didn't say anything.
Mrs. Chavez came closer and took my hand, lowering her voice. "Sebastian never remarried, you know. Says he can't let you go."
"Once the money's divided up, hire a caretaker for your mom and get back together with him. That boy needs his mother."
"You've given them the best years of your life. It's time you started living for yourself."
My whole body went rigid.
My entire life, I'd been busy for them. Living for them. I couldn't remember a single day I'd taken for myself.
I thought about everything I'd given over the past twenty-five years. The future I'd abandoned. My son's gut-wrenching screams the day of the divorce. My mother's words: You've never contributed to this family.
The tears finally came.
"If I didn't get a single cent, would he still want to remarry me?"
Mrs. Chavez stared. "What did you just say?"
The phone rang again. It was Val.