Three Million From My Frozen Mother

Helen scales and guts fish in the freezing market, her hands cracked with chilblains, her body carrying a terminal brain tumor she has told no one about. Her daughter Evelyn dances in pristine white slippers and begs her mother to stay away from the theater, ashamed of the raw-fish smell and the grease. When Evelyn is accepted into the Royal Ballet Academy, the fifty-thousand-dollar tuition stands between her and the stage, and she hurls the letter at her mother with the words that her mother should sell her life for the money.

That night Helen coughs blood into her palm and smiles. In a drawer lie an accidental death insurance policy naming Evelyn Davies as sole beneficiary and an organ donor registry form. She smooths every hidden dollar into Evelyn's old, torn ballet slippers, the shoes her daughter calls her ultimate shame, and waits for the tumor to finish what it started.

Evelyn packs for Chelsea's house, refusing breakfast, refusing her mother.