Grandma got into the car.
Before closing the door, she looked at him one last time.
“Richard.”
“Yes?”
“Never make your children choose between you and their conscience.”
He lowered his head.
Then she closed the door.
For months afterward, things changed.
The investigation recovered most of the money.
Not all of it.
Some had already been spent.
Some debts had been paid.
Some transactions couldn’t be reversed.
But Grandma stopped caring about the exact number.
She told me one evening,
“I spent twelve years worrying about what my children would inherit.”
She looked around her kitchen.
