I hadn’t opened that folder in years.
“We read the letter,” Noah said. “The one that said congratulations.”
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“We knew you wanted to be a doctor,” Ethan added. “You said it once, when you were helping me with my science fair. But we didn’t know you actually got in somewhere.”
“You got in,” Noah repeated, as if the sentence still amazed him. “And you never said.”
My throat burned. “It was a long time ago, honey.”
“It wasn’t that long,” Ethan said softly. “It was right behind the Christmas stuff.”
I had no answer for that. Noah rubbed his palms on his jeans.
“So we thought, what if we saved up? What if we could give you enough that you could finally go?”
“For almost a year?” I asked.
They both nodded. “We started with small jobs,” Noah said. “Then we found the car wash.”
