I grew up in her spare bedroom with a mattress on the floor. There was a water stain on the ceiling above it that I used to stare at when I couldn’t sleep. It was shaped a little like a boot.

I think about my mom a lot lately. More than I have in years. She set that money aside for me and she trusted the wrong person to protect it. That wasn’t her fault. She was doing the best thing she knew how to do. She was trying to take care of me even from wherever she went.

Gloria knew that money was there every single month for eleven years. Every time I asked for something I needed and she made me feel small for asking, she knew. Every time I packed my free lunch and hoped no one was watching, she knew.

She looked at me across every dinner table and holiday and she knew.

I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do. The attorney said 14 months. I have time. But I keep thinking about my mom working those two jobs, setting that money aside, trusting her sister.

$6,112.

That’s what’s left of what she built for me. I haven’t touched it. I don’t know why, but I haven’t touched it yet.