Then I reached for Nana’s letter.
I didn’t reread the entire thing.
I only looked at the final paragraph.
You have already built a life worth being proud of.
I put it back in its protective sleeve.
The next morning, I walked into the courthouse wearing my plain navy suit.
My parents were waiting near the entrance.
Dad saw me first.
He glanced at the folders in my hands and laughed.
“Playing lawyer now?”
Mom touched his arm.
“Please,” she murmured, loud enough for other people to hear. “Let’s not make a scene.”
Dad ignored her.
“You could’ve handled this privately.”
I looked at him.
“I tried to speak to Mom after Nana died.”
“You tried to steal from us.”
Several people turned.
I felt heat rise in my face.
For a second, I was seventeen again, standing in the kitchen while my father turned an ordinary decision into proof that I was a failure.
