The divorce finalized two months after Daniel’s sentencing.
The judge awarded me full ownership of the house and ordered Daniel’s name removed from any claim.
He had already waived marital interest as part of the settlement.
Seeing the final order made my knees weak.
Alicia smiled.
“Grace House is safe.”
Grace House.
For a while, I hated that name because Daniel had tried to brand it.
Then I remembered it was my mother’s name first.
I decided to keep it.
Not as a hotel.
As home.
Michael and I held a small dinner that night.
Nora, my best friend.
Denise.
Alicia.
A few close friends.
My mother’s photo sat on the table.
Not the memorial table.
The dining table.
Present.
We toasted with red wine.
I poured a little onto the soil of Mom’s favorite potted lemon tree.
“For Mom,” I said.
Michael raised his glass.
“Because she warned us.”
Denise added, “And because this time, the paperwork listened.”
We laughed.
The house felt warm that night.
Not haunted.
Held.
