My Grandma Raised Me Alone After I Became an Orphan – Three Days After Her Death, I Learned She Lied to Me My Entire Life

So one night, I tried.

Grandma sat at the kitchen table, shuffling bills into piles.

Her readers were halfway down her nose. The good mug—chipped at the rim, flowers fading—sat beside her.

“Grandma?”

“Mm?” she answered.

She snorted. “You think you need a car.”

“I do,” I said.

“Everyone at school drives. I’m always begging for rides. I could get a job if I had one.

I could help.”

That last part made her pause.

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