Helen, recovering from her shock, attempted to regain control. “This is ludicrous! Some fairy tale concocted at my son’s funeral. I won’t have it!” Her voice was shrill, a desperate attempt to cling to the narrative she believed in.

Julian maintained his composure, addressing Helen with calm respect. “I understand this is difficult to believe. I have the legal documents to prove every word I’ve said. It might be painful, but it’s crucial we honor Michael’s wishes, including the legacy he wanted to leave behind.”

As Julian spoke, a sense of vindication washed over me. The slap that had stung my cheek moments ago now felt insignificant in the face of this revelation. Despite everything, Michael’s love and respect for me shone through. I could feel the weight of his intentions settling in my heart, providing a solace I desperately needed.

“I’ll fight this,” Helen spat, her voice cracking now, carrying more desperation than resolve. “I won’t let you take everything from me.”