Sarah had spent years trapped between grief and gratitude, shaped by the loss of both parents and the unwavering presence of a woman who chose to stay when everyone expected her to leave. Her stepmom was never a replacement, but a quiet guardian who held the pieces of their shattered lives together. When Sarah turned 18, she refused to let that devotion go unanswered or unnoticed.
What looked like betrayal was, in truth, the greatest act of love she could imagine. By using the education fund her father left behind—and every cent she had added—Sarah bought a home beside her new university, ensuring they could build a future side by side. The keys she placed in her stepmom’s trembling hand were more than metal; they were a promise. Not of perfection, but of permanence. A chosen family, bound not by blood, but by relentless, enduring love.
