“And to my neighbor…”
Daniel chuckled under his breath.
“…who showed me more kindness in two years than I received in the last ten…”
The room fell silent.
“…I leave this letter.”
The lawyer looked up. “And a personal bequest, enclosed.”
He handed me an envelope.
Daniel let out a short, mocking laugh. “A letter? That’s it? Must’ve been worth all that effort.”
My hands trembled slightly as I opened it.
Inside was a folded sheet of paper—and something else.
A small key.
I unfolded the letter. Her handwriting was neat, familiar.
My dear,
If you’re reading this, I’ve finally gone where I can rest.
I want you to know something I didn’t say often enough—you gave me back my life.
Twelve years ago, I lost my husband. Ten years ago, I lost my son—not to death, but to distance. And then, two years ago, I found you.
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