When my late father left me a house I’d never heard of, I thought it was a mistake until I found a woman living there, claiming it was hers. What she revealed shattered everything I knew.
The rain pounded relentlessly on the rooftops as I tightened my coat and quickened my pace toward the notary’s office.
My father was gone. I couldn’t shake the thought. He’d always been my rock, but in the past few years, that rock had crumbled under the weight of debts I couldn’t even comprehend.
Finally, the house we’d lived in together was about to be repossessed, and I didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore.
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