My children said they wanted to surprise me.
They said I deserved it.
That was how I ended up inside a luxury hotel for the first time in my life—one of those places where the floors gleam like mirrors and the air itself feels expensive.
They called it a “family weekend.” A thank-you, they said, for all the years I raised them alone. No vacations. No rest. No one to lean on. For the first time, they made me feel seen.
The hotel room was enormous. My voice echoed when I spoke. Lucas and Adrián ran through the suite laughing, pulling on fluffy white robes, ordering food as if it were nothing. Watching them, I smiled and said nothing. I’ve always been that kind of mother—the one who stays quiet so joy doesn’t collapse under reality.
Sunday afternoon arrived too quickly.
As we were getting ready to leave, Lucas hugged me briefly and whispered,
“Thanks for everything, Mom.”
Then they walked out.
No explanations. No backward glance.
The receptionist slid a folder across the counter.
The number inside made my chest tighten.
€2,600.
I felt lightheaded. I earn less than a third of that each month cleaning offices before dawn. I could barely breathe. My hands shook so badly the paper crumpled between my fingers.
I looked up—and saw a man watching me closely.
He had silver hair, neatly combed, and an expression that wasn’t sympathy. It was recognition.
“Are you… Mr. Mark’s daughter?” he asked gently.
My heart stopped.
No one had spoken my father’s name in years. He had been a distant figure—British, wealthy, always traveling, always busy. A man who left more silence than memories. When he died seven years ago, he left debts… and nothing else, or so I believed.
“I worked for your father for thirty-three years,” the man said. “My name is Edward Collins. Before he passed, he asked me to give you this—when the moment was right.”
He reached under the desk and placed a thick, yellowed envelope in my hands.
They trembled instantly.
“Why now?” I whispered.
Edward smiled, but there was sadness in it.
“He told me you wouldn’t step into a place like this unless you had no choice left.”
I opened the envelope.
There was no money.
No letter.
No apology.
