a plain metal key. My hands started shaking before I even opened the letter.
James,
You’re probably angry that it looked like I left you nothing. But believe me, what I prepared for you will matter more than a house.
I know you first agreed to help me because of the money, and I don’t blame you for that. But somewhere between grocery runs, burnt dinners, and terrible television, you became the son I found far too late in life.
My knees hit the floor. She had cared. I read
