The next day, we married in her hospital room. I wore a tie, and a nurse made rings from clean bandages. Alicia wore a white scarf over her head, and her sister, Nora, brought flowers.
She smiled throughout the ceremony.
“Thank you,” Nora told me afterward. “You gave her something.”
I left believing I’d done a good thing.
Two days later, Alicia died.
At her funeral, I felt unsure of where I belonged among the people who had loved her all their lives.
As I walked toward my car, Nora hurried over with a sealed box.
“She wanted you to have this after she was gone.”
Inside was a lawyer’s letter explaining that Alicia had left me her share of her grandmother’s inheritance.
The money was enough to pay off every student loan I owed.
I stared at the amount in disbelief.
Then Nora saw the letter.
