Chapter 3

I sat by Grandpa's hospital bed, holding his rough, calloused hand. I took out my phone and updated the family group chat.

"The doctor said Grandpa only has a month to live."

This time, I got a reply. A voice message from Uncle Scott. I pressed play, and his angry voice filled the quiet room.

"A month? Molly, what the hell did you do? Do you know how much a hospital stay costs? He's a lost cause! You're just running up bills we're going to have to pay!"

Before I could even process the cruelty, my phone rang. It was my father, Anthony.

"Are you out of your mind?" he yelled. "Why did you have to get involved? We had a system! Now there are doctors, bills! You should have just left him be!"

Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Just then, a weak voice from the bed startled me. "Don't you worry, kiddo."

I looked over. Grandpa Rufus was awake, his eyes sharp and clear despite his weakness.

"I've got this," he whispered, a strange, determined look on his face. "I know how to make them come."

He pointed a shaky finger towards the corner of the room, where the nurse had placed his old clothes and a small bag. "In my footlocker at home... under the false bottom. There's a bank statement. Get it."

I didn't understand, but I called Mrs. Gable, who still had my spare key. She was a saint. She went to the house, found the footlocker, and brought the statement to the hospital.

I opened the envelope. My jaw dropped. It was a statement from an investment account. The balance was over one and a half million dollars.

"$1,534,281.19."

I stared at Grandpa, stunned. He just gave me a small, grim nod.

"Now," he said, his voice stronger now. "You text them. You tell them this: 'Come to the hospital. Grandpa is discussing his will. There's money.'"

I hesitated for a second, then I typed out the message and hit send.