If someone had asked me a year ago how things were between me and my daughter, I would have smiled and said, “We’re close. Very close.” Nina Rose, my beautiful daughter, is 25 now. She’s smart, kind, and full of life. She moved out at 18, ready to chase her own dreams, and I was proud of her for that. I missed her, of course, but she came back often—birthdays, Sunday dinners, movie nights. Every time she left, she’d leave something behind: her jacket, her favorite noodle bowl, even a

When Jake said, “Let’s move to Alaska to save money and build our future,” I didn’t even think twice. I said, “Yes!” just like that. But after a quick goodbye trip with my girlfriends, I came home and found something that shattered my whole world. Hi, I’m Chloe. I’m 25, and I thought I had my life all figured out. I lived in my mom’s old house in South Carolina—a small, cozy place with a wrap-around porch and a garden she used to love before she moved to Alaska five

The old grandfather clock in the hallway chimed slowly as I gently ran my fingers over Dad’s framed photo on the wall. It had been a whole year since we said goodbye to him, but the pain still hit me like it happened yesterday. “Dad,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, “I miss you so much.” Mom came into the room and looked at me with that same cold, bitter expression she always wore now—half pity, half anger. Ever since the reading of Dad’s will, that look had become