Cancer took Elias far too soon. For two years, I was his nurse, his comfort, his unwavering support. His children? They showed up for photo ops at the funeral—then handed me eviction papers the next day.
“You’re not family,” Jordan said as he changed the locks.
I was homeless, heartbroken, and utterly lost—until a stranger’s text led me to a storage unit filled with Elias’s secrets. Letters. Jewelry. And deeds to properties they didn’t know existed.
Now, I live in a beachfront condo he bought years ago, smiling every time I see the sunset he knew I’d love. His children thought they’d won. But Elias made sure I’d never lose.
