Page 77 of When a Soul Cries

That was the fucked-up part.

I probably could fix this.

At least this problem.

And Sol didn’t have a clue.

“I didn’t say I could fix everything,” I said carefully.

“But you always try.”

“Because you’re my sister.”

“And I love you for that.” She wiped underneath her eyes. “But I don’t want to spend my whole life needing you to save me.”

The words settled between us.

I stared at her for a second before looking back at that folded notice.

Save her.

If she knew what I knew, she’d probably hate that word even more.

I could see it now.

The look on her face if I told her.

The questions.

The hurt.

How long have you had that kind of money?

Why didn’t you tell me?

Why didn’t you help me?

That last one was the question I was afraid of.

Not because I had known she was struggling.

I hadn’t.

I truly hadn’t.

If I had known, I would’ve been at her door before she ever got that notice.

But I also knew Sol. If she found out I had money, she might still wonder why I hadn’t said anything. She might think I had been keeping it from her while she was barely holding things together.

The truth was, I hadn’t told anybody.

Not Sol.

Not my family.

Not anybody.

After my bitch-ass boyfriend and my relationship went to hell, I ended up finding some money he’d had stashed away.