“The truth.”
Eleanor looked at me.
“That you stopped for me?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
I smiled.
“Lucy asked whether you said thank you.”
Eleanor laughed softly.
“And did I?”
“Eventually.”
Her smile faded.
Then she said something I never forgot.
“Christopher, wealth creates a dangerous illusion.”
“What illusion?”
“That money can protect the people you love from becoming strangers.”
She looked through the window.
“I spent forty years building companies because I thought stability was love. I gave my family homes, schools, opportunities, trust funds.”
Her voice cracked.
“But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking whether they were happy.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Then the elevator doors opened.
A young woman rushed out.
She was in her early thirties, blonde, breathless, terrified.
“Grandma!”
Eleanor turned.
“Claire?”
The woman ran straight into Eleanor’s arms.
Daniel immediately stepped forward.
“Claire, how did you know she was here?”
