Smart.
Late.
Still smart.
The family house went to Daniel and me equally.
That created tension.
I considered giving my half to Ethan.
Then remembered Mom’s note.
Asked him.
He said:
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because then the house becomes an apology I have to live inside.”
Exactly.
We sold it eighteen months later.
Daniel and I divided proceeds according to the will.
I donated part of mine to a youth housing nonprofit.
Quietly.
Not in Ethan’s name.
He didn’t owe anyone a memorial project.
Then one evening Ethan called.
“Do you still have the photograph?”
“Which?”
“The one with Mom.”
Rachel.
He had started calling her Mom sometimes.
Other times Rachel.
Both allowed.
“Yes.”
“Can I borrow it?”
“Of course.”
He paused.
“I want to have it restored.”
I smiled.
“Okay.”
Then:
“And I want a copy for Daniel.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
Ethan was quiet.
“Because he should have to look at her too.”
