Inside the can, beneath a layer of folded tissue, lay a thick roll of cash bound with a rubber band, and on top sat an index card in my handwriting. Caleb read it aloud, his voice unsteady. “For Caleb, saved one dollar at a time since the day you were born. Every birthday, every Christmas, every Tuesday I thought of you.” Courtney’s hand flew to her mouth. Greg stepped forward and stared at the roll.

Caleb counted it slowly on the counter. Nearly eleven thousand dollars, plus a savings bond in his name. Courtney’s face drained of color, and she looked at the trash can where the twins’ can still lay. “There are four of these,” Caleb said quietly. “Grandma has been doing this for all of us.” Then he turned to his mother and added, “You told me she never did anything for us.”