Mom Paid Their Bills, I Ended the Handouts

Besides, hadn't Selena just said they were still waiting to see? I had paid for heating, and it was still freezing. How could their place be warm if they hadn't paid? Unless…

A thought I didn't dare to dwell on suddenly surged up.

As I was about to listen more closely, Selena had already quickly walked away and shut the door. Then, her voice came through the phone again, louder this time, "My kid was just copying something from a TV commercial earlier. It's so noisy. I came into the bedroom to talk to you."

I mumbled in response, chatted with her a bit more, and then hung up.

A commercial? Even with her explanation, my heart felt like a pebble had been dropped into a still lake, ripples spreading outward. All afternoon, I couldn't shake what Alex had said.

Ciara shifted uneasily in her sleep. Her nose was blocked, and her breathing was heavy. I tucked the blanket around her more tightly, but the knot in my chest only grew.

A commercial? What kind of commercial would make a kid complain about being hot in the dead of winter? And Selena's explanation sounded rushed, almost like she was covering something up.

No. I had to see it for myself.

I put on my thickest down jacket and quietly stepped out. Even the hallway was warmer than my apartment, but only at a normal level, definitely not to the point where I "needed a popsicle".

Step by step, I climbed the stairs. The closer I got to my brother's door, the more noticeable a faint, familiar warmth became. It was the kind of dry, cozy heat my own apartment had last winter. The kind only attainable by working heating.

I stood outside their door, hand hovering over the doorbell, hesitating. Should I just knock and ask? They'd definitely brush me off with some excuse.

I took a deep breath, then turned and went back downstairs. I couldn't alert them.

At 4:00 pm, the heating company technician arrived as promised. He was an older man, carrying a tool bag and looking every bit like a professional.

But after making three rounds through my apartment, the confusion on his face grew more obvious. After a long pause, he asked hesitantly, "Miss, are you sure you paid the bill?"

I nodded, puzzled.

He frowned, scratching his head. "That shouldn't be the case. Your heating system looks normal. Could it be that the company somehow missed your unit?"

My heart jolted. I forced myself to stay calm and ask, "Could you check the system records for me? I definitely paid."

He nodded and pulled out his phone to contact the office. A few minutes later, he said it would take time to verify and that he had other units to inspect, so he left.

I sat on the couch in a daze, my heart sinking.

After a while, I heard the door open. I got up to look. It was my husband, William Thompson.

I took the groceries from his hands. "Didn't you say you were meeting your high school classmates for dinner? Why are you back so early?"

William pulled me into a quick hug. "Ciara's sick. How could I eat out in peace? I figured I'd come back and cook for you both instead. Why is it still so cold in here? What did the technician say?"

I paused, glanced at the still-sleeping Ciara, then sat down with William in the living room and told him everything that had happened.

He frowned after listening, then gently reassured me, "Don't overthink it. Let's wait and see what the heating company says."

I nodded absentmindedly.

By evening, the down jackets I ordered had arrived. I deliberately carried the ones meant for the family upstairs and knocked on their door.

My brother, Howard Walter, answered, wearing just a T-shirt. The moment the door opened, a wave of warm, dry air rushed out as he took the jackets from my hands.

Hearing my voice, Selena hurried out from the living room.