While avoiding creditors, a banker was hit by a truck while crossing the street.
It should have been the start of a funny story. Not funny "haha," but a quirky anecdote told at a party or in a passing way.
Instead it was the story of her life.
The life her father had left her, after getting himself killed running across a busy intersection. He was trying to avoid the creditors chasing him at the time, but he still hadn’t given the daytime traffic more than a passing glance.
The truck had hit him head on.
He’d died at the scene.
The creditors had been forced to give her nearly a million dollars in compensation for causing her father’s death.
It was both ironic and horrible.
What should have been a funny story was instead the tragedy of her teenaged life. Was the source of her misery as a newly orphaned teen with a passel of unknown relatives suddenly popping out of the woodwork.
Her money was in a trust account that handled her school fees and paid her caretakers a monthly stipend. It was a guaranteed $2500 every month until she was 18, when the money started transferring into her own bank account.
Until she was 18, she was a "rich girl" with empty pockets. The money never felt as real as the loss of her father.
It wasn’t worth it.
