its own, the way they do.” She tapped the paper. “That’s what’s left over after you add it all up.”
“Every Thursday,” I whispered.
“Every Thursday. The same amount I paid you. You cleaned my house. And the house paid for her
future.” She smiled a little. “It seemed fair.”
“You never said anything. For eight years. You never said one word.”
“I told you. I’m a stubborn old woman who doesn’t know how to say things.” She looked at me
steadily. “And if I had told you, you’d have said no. Just like you’re saying now. You’d have quit. You’d have been too proud. I know you, Carly. I’ve been watching you for eight years.”
“This is too much,” I said. “This is way too much. I can’t let you do this. I can’t accept it.”
“You don’t have to accept it,” she said. “Willa does. And you’re going to let her. Because it’s already done, and it’s in her name, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She paused. “And because it isn’t charity. It’s a debt. An old one. I’ve been waiting a very long time to pay it back.”
