The doorbell rang, and Mom moved toward the sound without hesitation. Her grace was ever-present, unwavering, even in a moment like this—when her daughter had just upended her entire life, when I had come crying into her arms not more than a few hours earlier, trembling and broken, confessing that James and I were falling apart. There was no panic in her steps, no visible frustration in her expression. Instead, she exuded calm strength, the kind that made you believe everything might be okay eventually, even when your world had just shattered.
She wasted no time in calling Uncle Earl, her older brother—the one with the kind eyes and the sharp mind. He was a corporate lawyer, a seasoned professional who knew every legal loophole and protocol, someone who could explain the complicated jargo
