Grateful for every single minute.
In those days, I almost forgot about the $6 million check lying in my wallet.
It was just paper.
She was the real gold, the diamond, everything.
The last day came far too quickly.
Tuesday morning, the snow had stopped and the sky was an unbelievably clear blue.
I packed my suitcase, my heart heavy.
Grandma had been up since dawn bundling a huge package of vegetables from the greenhouse.
Bright red carrots, plump potatoes, a few onions, and a bunch of dried herbs.
“Take these back to the city and eat well. I grew them clean, no chemicals.”
I held her for a long time on the porch.
She looked so small in the green sweater and the thick scarf I had given her.
The mountain wind tossing her silver hair.
I kissed her forehead.
The familiar scent of lavender stung my eyes.
“I will be back soon, Grandma. Promise. Next month.”
She nodded, eyes red but still smiling.
“Yes, I will be waiting.”
I got in the car and rolled down the window to wave.
She stood there, a tiny figure against the endless white forest, her scarf fluttering like a butterflyy’s wing.
I drove away, looking back through the rear view mirror until she disappeared.
I did not know that was the last time I would ever see her standing there.
I did not know those peaceful days had been the final ones before the entire world I loved came crashing down.
I got back to Boulder late in the afternoon.
The city had not changed.
Phân cảnh 10: Cashing the mysterious check
Snow drifting lightly, streets packed, horns blaring.
I unlocked the door to my fourth floor apartment, tossed the suitcase into the corner, and collapsed onto the sofa.
I was exhausted, but my heart still carried the warm scent of pine logs and Grandma’s apple pie.
I texted her, “I am home safe, Grandma. I miss you so much.”
No blue tick.
She had probably left the phone in the kitchen again.
The following days flew by like a gust of wind.
I buried myself in work so I would not overthink things.
Then came Wednesday evening.
I opened the suitcase to grab clothes for laundry, pulled out sweaters and socks, and there at the very bottom was the white envelope, its corner slightly curled from being pressed for days.
I picked it up and chuckled to myself in the dark living room.
$6 million.
It really did look professional.
The bank seal, Grandma’s shaky but clear signature.
I plopped down on the floor and kept turning the check over under the table lamp.
Suddenly, I remembered the look in her eyes on Christmas night.
“Why not give it a try?”
“What do I have to lose?” I muttered.
The next morning, I drove to a Wells Fargo branch near the school.
I queued up, as usual, the check inside the envelope in my hand, secretly laughing at myself.
The teller is going to lose it when she sees this.
When it was my turn, a very young teller named Tiffany, according to her name tag, greeted me with a professional smile.
“Hi sir, how can I help you today?”
I slid the envelope through the slot.
“I would like to deposit this.”
She opened it, glanced down, then snapped her head up and stared at me, eyes wide.
She looked back at the check this time for much longer.
I started to feel embarrassed, my face burning.
“Could you wait just a moment, sir?”
She stood and disappeared inside.
15 minutes later, a middle-aged man in a gray suit and gold rimmed glasses came out holding my check like it was a live grenade.
“Mr. Harper.”
He smiled, but his eyes were serious.
“I am Edward Collins, the branch manager. Could you step into my office,
Phân cảnh 11: Millionaire status confirmed
please?”
I swallowed hard and followed him, a bad feeling creeping in.
In the private room, he placed the check on the desk and slid a receipt toward me.
“This check appears to be valid. It was drawn on an account at Frontier Trust Bank. The signature matches. The routing numbers are correct.”
“We will hold the check and run additional verification. For an amount this size, the process takes 2 to 5 business days. If everything clears, the funds will be deposited into your account this week.”
I nodded like a bobblehead, my throat dry.
“Yes, thank you.”
Walking out of the bank, I still could not believe what I had just heard.
$6 million.
My hands shook on the steering wheel the whole drive home.
I had to pull over once before I trusted myself to keep driving.
Two days later, Friday, I was in the teacher’s lounge grading tests while colleagues chatted and laughed around me.
My phone buzzed.
I glanced at the screen.
A notification from the banking app.
Your account has been credited $6 million.
I shot to my feet.
The chair crashed backward, the noise loud enough that everyone turned to stare.
Ignoring them, I bolted into the hallway, hands trembling as I opened the app.
The screen glowed.
$6 million.
I froze in the middle of the corridor, heartammering so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.
Students passing by gave me strange looks.
Joy shock.
Phân cảnh 12: Family skepticism and anger
Then suddenly a chill ran down my spine.
I rushed into the bathroom, slammed the stall door, and dialed grandma.
Ring, ring.
No answer.
I called again a third time.
Nothing but empty echo from the other end.
She must be out in the garden, I told myself, or napping or had left the phone inside.
Calm down.
I took a deep breath and called my parents.
“Hello, it is me.”
“Yeah, what?”
Dad’s curt voice.
“I cashed Grandma’s check. It is real, Mom. Dad, $6 million. It is already in my account.”
One second of silence.
Then Dad burst out laughing.
A scornful, dismissive laugh.
“Stop kidding around, Daniel. I tore mine up on Christmas Day. There is no way she had 6 million. You are being childish.”
Mom snatched the phone.
“Daniel, are you dreaming? Stop making up stories for attention. I am tired of these games.”
I swallowed and called Eric.
“Hello, bro.”
He sounded half asleep.
“Eric, the check grandma gave us on Christmas. Do you still have it?”
“Huh? That piece of paper? I threw it away somewhere. Why are you calling so early?”
“I took mine to the bank and it is real. 6 million just hit my account.”
Eric yawned loudly.
“Yeah, real funny man. Do not bother me. I am going back to sleep.”