Megan showed up to hear her late husband’s will, expecting closure—not betrayal. But when the polished young lawyer read his final words, Megan learned the unthinkable: everything had been left to her. Not to his wife—but to his mistress. And that was just the beginning.
The morning sun spilled across the windshield like melted gold, casting soft light on the dashboard, but Megan could barely keep her eyes open. Her head throbbed, her eyes burned, and every part of her felt heavy. The kind of heavy that doesn’t come from lack of sleep—it comes from loss. In the back seat, Eli and Noah were wrestling over a crumpled snack wrapper. It crinkled loudly between them as Noah shouted, “It’s mine!” and Eli yelled back, “You had your turn!”
“Stop it! Both of you!” Lily, their sister, tried to keep the peace, her small voice trying to sound like a grown-up’s. “You’re acting like babies.” “Boys, please,” Megan said, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel. Her voice was calm, but there was a sharpness in it, a crack just under the surface. “Just… stop for five minutes, okay? Please.” The car fell into a brief, tense silence.
Being a single mom was never easy. Megan had learned to juggle lunches, laundry, late-night fevers, and broken toys. But today, it felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Two weeks ago, Tom, her husband, the kids’ dad, the one person who used to balance her out, had passed away. The kids still laughed, argued, and played like always. They didn’t fully understand what had happened. But Megan did. She couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not now. Not ever. She had to be their anchor their shield. She dropped them off at school. Noah ran ahead. Lily skipped, her ponytail bouncing. But Eli—Eli lingered.
He stepped out of the car slowly, backpack dragging behind him. Megan saw the sadness in his eyes, the weight he was trying to hide. “Hey,” she said gently, stepping out and walking around to him. She bent down, so they were eye to eye, and placed her hands on his small shoulders. “We’re gonna be okay.” He didn’t say anything. Just looked down. “We’ll get through whatever comes. I promise.” She ran her fingers through his hair the way Tom used to. He nodded, slow and unsure, and turned toward the school doors.