The house was quiet.
Suitcases stood by the stairs.
Camila sat at the table with legal papers.
Lia’s eyes were red. Jen wouldn’t look at me.
On the table was another envelope—with my name in Dad’s handwriting.
I opened it.
“Chels, if you’re reading this, it means you made it.
You’re braver than you think.
Love, Dad.”
I pressed the note to my chest.
For the first time since he was gone…
This house was mine again.
And so was my life.
S0urce: amomama.com
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
