Everything changed again when a lawyer revealed she had once forged my father’s signature, placing our house in her name and exposing it to her debts. But before I confronted her, she handed me a key to a safety deposit box containing forty-two thousand dollars she had secretly saved to return what she had taken. It was enough to save the house and soften a lifetime of resentment. She died before I could tell her it mattered, but in the quiet after her funeral, I realized forgiveness isn’t about forgetting — it
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