I honored my dad’s memory by keeping the house he left me….

I honored my dad’s memory by keeping the house he left me. When my family moved in uninvited, I thought it was temporary. They took over and treated me like their personal maid. I endured it until they tried to push me out of my own home. I made just one phone call that changed everything.

The old grandfather clock in the hallway chimed as I ran my fingers across Dad’s framed photo. A whole year had passed since we buried him, but the ache still felt like it happened yesterday.“Dad,” I whispered, “I miss you so much.”

Mom walked in, glancing at me with that look — half pity and half resentment. It had become her signature expression since the will reading.

“Katie, stop moping around. He’s gone, and crying won’t bring him back!”