SPACEDESKTOP

After raising her granddaughter alone following the death of her son, June believed the hardest days were finally behind them. But when her former daughter-in-law suddenly reappeared—draped in a designer gown and carrying an envelope—June learned that some people could still sink lower than she ever imagined.

Sixteen years ago, when I was fifty-six and still bouncing between cramped rental apartments, my son Mark accomplished something I never had.

At twenty-nine, he bought a modest one-story house for his wife, Melissa, and their little girl, Emma. He was a construction worker with calloused hands and big dreams.

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