My dearest Howard,
The cancer has returned. I can’t bear to tell you. You finally seem peaceful in retirement, and I don’t want to take that from you. Maria takes care of me. Her family makes me feel alive. I wish I could explain this world to you, but I know you wouldn’t understand.

Tears blurred the words.

Another letter revealed even more.

Marcus found out. He threatened Maria. He said she was stealing from us. He said if I didn’t evict them, he’d pursue legal action and tell you I was incompetent. Diana agreed. They care more about inheritance than humanity. Howard, I am ashamed of what our children have become.

I felt physically sick.

My own children had threatened this family?

Maria gently touched my shoulder. “Your children came here once. They called us criminals. But Señora Julie… she protected us.”

“When?” I croaked.

“Two years ago.”

My fists clenched. Marcus and Diana had known—and chosen to hide everything from me.

After dinner with the family—warm, noisy, loving—I stepped outside to breathe. The ocean breeze carried Julie’s presence, calm and steady. This family had given Julie what I hadn’t: connection, warmth, a place to be herself.

The next morning, I met Julie’s lawyer, Patricia Henderson. Her office was filled with files.

“Yes,” Patricia said gently, “Julie planned everything. She created a trust to protect Maria’s family for ten years. Your children cannot evict them.”

Relief washed over me.

“And she left you options,” Patricia continued. “But… she hoped you would choose the third.”

She slid a document toward me.

Option 3: Transfer ownership of the beach house to Maria’s family.

A smaller home nearby will be purchased for Howard using Julie’s insurance fund.

My breath caught.

Julie hadn’t only protected Maria.

She was protecting me—giving me a chance at the life she knew I needed: purpose, connection, belonging.

Patricia handed me a final envelope.