The Man Who Valued Money Over Life

id, it hadn't helped. She passed away three days later, quietly,

ervice with a few of her old friends from church. Blake sent a text: "So sorry for

lease was up at the end of the month anyway. I couldn't stand bein

a bit cluttered. Tucked beneath a stack of his tech magazines, I found a slim, expe

as a

– Birthda

kin (orange, s

Porsche Cayenne (

rivate villa, first c

therton. The one he always said was "like a sister." The one who'd occasionally look at

nd jeweler in Union Square – a diamond bracelet, the price tag making me feel sick. It was da

ind in his rush to a "meeting." A notification pinged. It was a

mily hit you up for cash? Somethin

believe it? After all this time, still trying to see what she

nd: "So, wha

essica's right, some people just can't hel

fingers, clattering onto

nd dollars

mot

ars. He'd called it a test. It was a game. A cruel, twisted

is tie. He looked surprised to see me, then his expressio

hought you might have, yo

counter. "Look, about your

m, the notebook sti

Just ambition." He chuckled, a dry sound. "I told you, didn't I? 'I can't g

remembered his earnest eyes, his talk of shared sacrifice. I'd made excuses for his cheapness, his c

saw the notebook.

t's

wer. I just

e darkening as he saw w

g, Emily

t. "That's what my mother's life was worth to you.

for a second. Then

family. And those are... inve

A charity case

amatic. I was trying to

even me. "You taught me something, alri

box of belongings. "