The divorce was filed quietly. He cried, begged, promised, pleaded—but there are some things you don’t come back from. Manipulating a dying woman who loved me? That was it. That was the end.
He moved out. I kept the house—the one he tried so hard to steal out from under me. I changed the locks. Painted the walls. Hung up the photo of Grandma and me baking. And on my office shelf, I placed her letter in a silver frame.
As a reminder.
She protected me until her last breath. And even from the grave, she saved me from a man who never deserved the life he was pretending to build with me.
Some inherit money. Some inherit land.
I inherited the truth.
And that truth set me free.
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