But I also wasn’t going to erase the consequences of giving away months of hard-earned savings without telling me.
“What you did matters,” I said. “But secretly giving away four thousand dollars and telling me afterward is not something we’re going to make a habit of.”
Lily nodded.
“Your father helped people quietly too. Apparently, you inherited that part.”
A tiny smile appeared.
Then I continued.
“The three thousand dollars I promised toward your car stays saved. When you earn your portion again, we’ll start shopping.”
“Okay.”
“And next time you decide somebody needs work boots, you tell me first.”
She laughed.
That evening, Lily sat at the kitchen table scrolling through used-car listings again.
Michael’s old HOME keychain rested beside her phone.
Still empty.
I looked over.
“Starting again?”
“Yep.”
“Any regrets?”
She thought for a moment.
“I regret that cars cost four thousand dollars.”
I laughed.
Then she looked at the photo she had taken of Mrs. Patel’s index card.
Michael’s sixteen names on the front.
Her seventeen on the back.
She tapped the screen once.
“I don’t regret seventeen.”
I slid Michael’s empty keychain a little closer to her.
Lily picked it up and turned the metal HOME tag between her fingers.
Then she went back to searching for cars.
The key ring remained empty.
For now.
