Inside, my father’s study was torn apart — drawers emptied, papers scattered. She’d been searching. My mother walked to the bookshelf, pulled out a copy of Moby Dick, and swung it open to reveal a hidden safe.
Carolina froze.
The first letter was brief and devastating:
“James, I see Carolina clearly now. I was blind for too long. Your mother and I have safeguarded what’s yours — the house, the savings, the things that matter. Don’t let her shake you. You are, and always will be, my greatest pride.”
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