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A ripple moved through the church.
Ethan scoffed.
“A will? My wife didn’t have anything,” he said confidently.
Michael looked at him—not with anger, but with certainty.
“I’ll begin with the primary beneficiary.”
Then he said my name.
“Margaret Carter, mother of the deceased.”
My knees nearly gave out. I grabbed the pew to steady myself.
Even in death… my daughter was still protecting me.
Ethan shot to his feet.
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