When Jason was kicked out at 17, my family took him in. We built a life together, and when cancer struck, I cared for him until the end.

After his death, his estranged parents showed up demanding the house he left behind. Legally, they might’ve had a case—but

I had something stronger: Jason’s final letter to them.

In it, he offered forgiveness but never forgot their abandonment. I asked them one question: “Why did you cut him out?”

They had no real answer. Shamed and speechless, they left. The house stayed mine—Jason’s legacy, protected.