Gavin’s face went pale, his bravado crumbling under the weight of the evidence and the authority standing before him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His anger, which had been a firestorm moments ago, now flickered out, leaving only the cold ashes of realization.
The assembled group of my mother’s friends—a formidable bunch, even without their recording devices—stood like sentinels around us. Each of them had known my mother well, and each had their own stories of her kindness and wisdom. They were here not just to support me, but to defend the legacy of the woman they all loved.
