The morning after we buried my father, my ex-husband’s new wife walked straight into his garden and told me to begin packing my belongings.

what I taught you in the garden: roses bloom softly, but they survive because they have thorns.

Trust Eleanor.

Trust the second will.

I read the last line three times.

“The second will?” I whispered.

Eleanor opened the notarized statement and placed it beside the letter.

“Your father executed a revised estate plan six months before he died,” she said. “He continue reading …