For a brief, foolish moment, I hoped she had come back to make things right.
Then an envelope slipped from her purse and landed at Emma’s feet.
Inside were legal documents—formal and unmistakable.
Melissa spoke smoothly, trying to sound reasonable. She said the house had always been meant for “their family.” She suggested Emma sign the papers so Melissa could sell it, promising a better, more glamorous life somewhere else.
That was when I understood why she had really returned.
Emma’s hands trembled, but her voice was steady. She asked how a dress could make someone a mother. She reminded Melissa who had stayed, who had worked, who had loved her when no one else did.
Then she tore the papers in half.
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