Elizabeth had walked away from it for love, for family, for the flutter that became Kate.
And Daniel had protected that gift for years, adding to it, never touching it even when the inn struggled, even when they could barely make mortgage. Another secret held, another sacrifice made in silence.
She turned the envelope upside-down and the bank passbook fell out onto the floor. She opened it and was shocked at what she saw.
One hundred and thirty-seven thousand dollars? What? How is that possible?
She realized between the compound interest and what her father had contributed over the years, the balance was much greater than the original thirty-thousand.
Kate carefully folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket. She'd share it with her siblings eventually, but for now, she needed to sit with it. Her mother hadn't just left her money, she'd left her permission to choose differently, to take the chance Elizabeth had traded for motherhood.
The sun was fully up now, streaming through the attic window, lighting up the dust and memories and promises kept across decades. Kate touched her mother's wedding dress one more time, then carefully closed the trunk.
Downstairs, she could hear the inn waking up. Guests needing breakfast, her siblings arriving for the post-wedding cleanup, life continuing its forward motion. But Kate sat for one more moment in the attic where her parents' love story was stored in tissue paper and dried flowers, where her own story had been written before she was even born.
“Thank you, Mom,” she whispered to the morning light. “I'll be brave. I promise.”
The smell of coffee met her at the bottom of the stairs, and she could hear Dani's voice in the kitchen, laughing about something from the reception. Normal sounds, ordinary morning, but Kate felt different walking through it. Lighter somehow, as if discovering her mother's choice had lifted something she hadn't known she was carrying.
She had a breakfast date with a man who made her laugh, a secret fund that could change everything, and a mother's blessing tucked in her pocket. For the first time in years, the future felt less like a weight and more like an open door.
CHAPTER 34
Labor Day weekend had passed in a blur of fully-booked rooms and perfect September weather. Kate stood in the kitchen at five-thirty on Tuesday morning, watching the sunrise paint the harbor pink and gold. The inn was quiet, just a handful of guests still sleeping off their long weekend indulgences.
She was thinking about Ben, about the way he'd kissed her goodbye last night after their beach walk, about how natural it felt to be with him after all these years of careful friendship. Her phone sat on the counter beside her coffee, and she was debating texting him when it rang.
The number was from Coastside Memory Care. Her stomach clenched immediately. They never called this early unless something was seriously wrong with Pop.
“Miss Perkins? This is Nancy from Coastside. An ambulance just left with your father. He's being taken to York Hospital with suspected pneumonia. He was having difficulty breathing, and we couldn't wait.”
Kate's coffee mug hit the floor, shattering across the old linoleum. “Is he… how bad is it?”
“He was stable when they left, but you should get to the hospital. Do you need the address?”
“No. No, I know where it is.” Kate was already grabbing her keys, stepping over the broken ceramic. “Thank you for calling.”
She called Marcy first. “Pop's being taken to York Hospital. Can you and Rosa handle things today?”
“Of course, honey. You just go. We've got everything here.”
Then her siblings, rapid-fire calls. “York Hospital. Now. Pop has pneumonia.”
Tom didn't even ask questions. “On my way.”
Dani: “Leaving now.”
James: “I'll drive Dani. I’m sure she’s a wreck.”
They converged in the emergency room within forty minutes. Tom arrived first, already pacing when Kate rushed in. Dani and James came together, Dani's eyes red-rimmed, James's jaw tight with worry.
“Daniel Perkins,” Kate told the desk nurse. “He was brought in from Coastside Memory Care.”
The wait felt eternal but was probably only twenty minutes before a doctor appeared, young enough to be their youngest sister, wearing scrubs that had seen a long shift.
“Family of Daniel Perkins?”
“Yes,” all four said in unison.
