The morning after the funeral, I expected nothing more than silence and the slow return to routine. I had never assumed I would receive anything from her estate, so when her son called—angry, confused, nearly shouting—I braced myself, unsure what he could possibly want. He explained that while sorting through one of the older boxes his mother had kept tucked away, he had found a letter addressed not to him, but to me. His voice shook with a mix of frustration and bewilderment as he demanded answers I didn’t yet have.
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