The days that followed were a whirlwind of legal consultations and paperwork. My attorney, a steadfast ally, helped me navigate the intricacies of my inheritance. I set up a foundation in Aunt Margaret’s name, dedicated to empowering women in business, ensuring her legacy would endure.With each passing day, my body mended, and my spirit soared. I moved out of the Boston rowhouse, leaving behind the remnants of a life tethered to someone else’s dreams. Instead, I found solace in a sunlit apartment overlooking the city—a space that mirrored the lightness in my heart.Norah and Penelope remained by my side, their friendship a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. We toasted to new beginnings with champagne and laughter, our voices echoing through the walls of my new home.

As I stood by the window, Boston sprawling below, I realized I had inherited more than just money. I had gained freedom—a chance to redefine my life on my own terms. The future stretched before me, a blank canvas waiting for the bold strokes of a woman who finally understood her worth.
My name is Llaya, and this is only the beginning.