My mother’s ex-boyfriend. The man she never married but had once loved. The same man I’d let stay after she died—against my better judgment—because she’d asked me to.

“Where’s Colin?” I asked tightly.

“Out,” she replied, casually sipping. “But he said you’d understand. We need the space now. Time for you to move on.”

I stared at her. “This is my house.”

She laughed. “Colin told me it was his. We’ve got a lawyer coming to straighten it all out.”

I didn’t argue. I just said, “Good. I’ll wait.”

She wasn’t expecting that. Her confidence cracked.

I sat across from her, silent, while memories of my mother swirled. I remembered her in the hospital, whispering, “The house is yours, Mia. I made sure. You’ll be okay.” I had promised I’d be strong. I’d honored her final