The day of Dad’s funeral was a somber affair. The sky was overcast, and a chill in the air made everything feel more somber and surreal. As I stood by the grave, the memories of our complicated relationship washed over me. Despite everything, this was the man who had raised me, who had tried in his own flawed way to be a father.
I had barely left the cemetery when I received the call from Emma. She sounded frantic, insisting that I come to the house immediately. When I arrived, I found all my belongings strewn across the lawn like unwanted debris. Mom and Emma stood by the front door with smug expressions, the locks newly changed.
