My uncle Robert stepped forward hesitantly, holding a large, manila folder. The leather clasp creaked as he handed it to Grandma Eleanor, who didn’t waste a second. She opened it and began pulling out documents—receipts, emails, and screenshots of text messages between my mom and Madison, all meticulously organized.
The room went quiet. I could feel every pair of eyes …
👇 👇 👇 👇 👇
