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The dining room still smelled like ham glaze, coffee, and my mother’s lemon candles when my Aunt Carol stood beside the Easter table in her pastel floral dress and started handing out thick white envelopes like she was hosting an award show. My son Ethan straightened up. My daughter Lily squeezed my fingers and stared at Carol’s designer purse with that bright little hope kids don’t know how to hide. Carol called out every cousin’s name. Lucas. Emily. Noah. Sophie. Five hundred dollars each. Then she snapped her purse shut and left my two children standing there in front of everyone.