He is gone… but what broke me was not only that – Page 3

Garbage bags were scattered across the grass. Toys, clothes, books—Ava’s pink blanket was tangled in the bushes.

She cried. Noah stood there, stunned. The house key no longer fit.

I banged on the door. Eleanor opened it, satisfied.

“You are not welcome here. This house belongs to me. Take your brats and leave.”

“This is our home,” I said with a trembling voice.

“It was my son’s. Unless you have a lawyer in your diaper bag, good luck.”

She slammed the door.

That night, I turned the back seat of our car into a “camping trip.” Ava cried herself to sleep. Noah whispered:

“Dad wouldn’t allow that.”

“And I won’t,” I said, holding him tight.

But Jason had already protected us.

The next morning, I called Jason’s lawyer.