MY COUSIN VISITED GRANDMA THREE TIMES IN EIGHTEEN MONTHS, WHILE I VISITED HER 186 TIMES—AND SOMEHOW I WAS THE SELFISH ONE FOR REFUSING TO L

I froze, the tongs slipping from my hand and clattering into the chemical bath.

Chloe.

She was supposed to be in police custody, or at least confined to her apartment under house arrest while the forgery investigation proceeded. What was she doing at my college?

I quickly wiped my hands on a towel, grabbed the wet photograph of Mom and Evelyn, and shoved it into a protective plastic sleeve.

I walked out of the darkroom, the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway blinding me for a second.

When I reached the lobby of the arts building, Chloe was sitting on a plastic bench. She looked completely different. The designer clothes were gone, replaced by a faded grey hoodie and cheap jeans. The arrogant, entitled aura she usually projected had vanished. She just looked small. And tired.

When she saw me, she stood up awkwardly.

"What are you doing here, Chloe?" I asked, keeping my distance. My voice was cold, guarded.

"I... I asked Aunt Ruth where you were," Chloe said, looking at the floor. "She didn't want to tell me, but I begged her."

"Why?"

Chloe reached into her hoodie pocket. For a terrifying second, I braced myself for a weapon or a legal document.

Instead, she pulled out a small, worn leather wallet.

"The police unfroze my personal checking account yesterday," Chloe said, her voice shaking. "They realized I didn't forge the signature. Your mom did it. She practiced my handwriting for weeks. I didn't even know I was the executor until the day of the funeral."

I crossed my arms. "You still knew Evelyn was alive. You still knew they were stealing from Grandma."

"I was terrified!" Chloe suddenly cried out, tears spilling over her cheeks. "Aunt Sarah told me if I ever told anyone about my mom calling, the police would arrest us all! She said Grandma hated me, that she would throw me out on the street!"

"So you took my money instead. You took my bedroom. You took my mother."

"I didn't ask for any of that, Hannah!" Chloe sobbed. "I was a kid! Aunt Sarah just gave me things, and when I tried to say no, she would guilt-trip me. She wanted me to be dependent on her. She wanted me to be weak."

I stared at her. For the first time, I looked past the resentment and saw the truth of my mother's pathology. Mom hadn't favored Chloe out of love. She had favored Chloe because Chloe was broken, easily manipulated, and reliant entirely on her. I was independent, like Grandma. Mom couldn't control me, so she discarded me.

Chloe held out a folded piece of paper. A cashier's check.

"This is the balance of my personal account," Chloe said, wiping her nose. "Twelve thousand dollars. It's the money from the boutique, and the cash Aunt Sarah gave me for my birthday. I know it doesn't make up for what they stole from you. But I don't want it. It feels like poison."

I looked at the check, then at her.

"I'm leaving, Hannah," Chloe whispered. "I bought a bus ticket to Ohio. I have a friend there. I'm going to start over. I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry. For everything."

She set the check on the bench, turned around, and started walking toward the glass exit doors.

"Chloe," I called out.

She stopped, looking back over her shoulder.

I walked over to the bench. I picked up the cashier's check.

Then, I held out the plastic sleeve containing the photograph I had just developed. The picture of Mom, Grandma, and Evelyn holding the duffel bag.

"Your mother was in trouble," I said quietly. "My mother tried to save her. They did terrible things, but... maybe they didn't start out evil."

Chloe stared at the picture of her mother, a fresh wave of tears hitting her eyes.

"Take the check, Chloe," I said, holding it out to her. "You need it to start over."

"Hannah, I can't—"

"Take it," I insisted, pressing it into her hand along with the photograph. "Grandma left me plenty. I don't need this. Break the cycle. Go build a life that doesn't belong to Sarah."

Chloe looked at the check, then at me. Without a word, she launched forward and hugged me. I hesitated for a second, then awkwardly patted her back.

It wasn't forgiveness. Not completely. But it was peace.

She walked out the doors, and I watched her disappear across the campus green.

I took a deep breath, feeling lighter than I had in years.