I tried to pay her.
***
Twenty-seven years passed. I am 44 now. My girls have grown.
Two years ago, somehow, life found a way to pull me under.
***
Mae got seriously ill when she was 25. It started small. Then it wasn’t.
Doctor visits turned into procedures. Procedures turned into bills that didn’t stop.
I worked longer hours, picked up extra jobs, and cut back on everything.
But it still wasn’t enough.
I was drowning again.
Life found a way to pull me under.
***
That morning, I sat at my desk, staring at another overdue notice, trying to figure out what I could delay.
That’s when the door opened.
A man in a charcoal suit stepped inside and walked toward my cubicle.
“Are you Nora?” he asked when he stopped beside me.
“Yes,” I responded skeptically.
He stepped forward and placed a small, worn box on my desk.
“My name is Carter,” he said. “I represent the estate of Arthur.”
