He holds up a hand. “Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know what to say. How do you put into words the tragedy and gift I’ve received? My mom was a beautiful and ambitious woman. She was a great mom sometimes, a horrible mom other times. Some days we fought, other days we hugged.” He looks up and smiles. “She used to always say that love was interchangeable with money, that if you had enough money, love would happen, and then one day she came into my room, held my hand, and said, love is as endless as it is short, it’s your choice alone how long it lasts.” He sighs. “She left the room and didn’t mention it again, and my dad died a few months later. I saw a shift in her, in the stress of our lives of trying to be something we were never meant to be in order to keep up. So, while I’m thankful for my family’s legacy, I’d like to say, right now, I would rather be imperfect, I would rather show my flaws to the world. I would rather be the person people accuse and point fingers at than the person who has the constant stress of standing still while chaos ensues around me—knowing I’m the one that caused it and must keep it quiet. My mom taught me that in such a short sentence and moment, and my best friends showed me that all that matters is it’s not over yet, that they’ll douse the flames every single time because, at the end of the day, it’s about connecting with people, it’s about making the world a better place, it’s about selflessness when even at your most tempted moment, all you want is to choose you. Choose someone else.

Do better.

Shut up the voices in your head and become what you envision for the world. I loved my mom and dad; now, my burden’s heavy.” He moves to the side of the stage. “So, as the heir to my family legacy, I’ve chosen to donate two million dollars to Hearts For Home, an independent foster care business that helps place kids in good homes.”

Tears start streaming down my face.

“…Three million dollars to domestic and sexual abuse victims with our city’s largest organization, Keep Me Safe.”

Quinn starts shaking next to me.

I grip his hand harder.

“And finally…” Ambrose smiles. “Another five million…” People gasp. “…to the local college fund for people who need help getting an education, and in the future, I’ll be doing more and more donations. I don’t want the money, I don’t believe in how it was earned, and I don’t believe in keeping all of it. My parents did the best they could, and I vow to do better. I love you, Mom. Thank you for your gift, fly high, and thank you for this…”

I frown.

What’s he talking about?

He pulls out a letter, one I’ve never seen.