forty.
My eyes filled with tears.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
She smiled.
Because that’s what mothers do.”
I broke.
Completely.
For several minutes I cried harder than I had since my father’s funeral.
She sat quietly beside me.
The same way she had when I was a child.
No lectures.
No advice.
Just presence.
Eventually I calmed down.
Then I noticed another document inside the folder.
A legal envelope.
“What is this?”
Her smile grew wider.
“Keep reading.”
I opened it.
Inside was a
