I stood up slowly, pushing my chair back.

I was shorter than David, but I did not look down.

“No,” I said.

The word was small, but it filled the room.

David blinked, his jaw tightening.

“What do you mean, no?” he asked.

“I mean no, David,” I said, my voice firm and clear.

“I will not sign any papers.”

“Mom, you don’t understand what you’re doing,” he said, his voice rising in anger.

“I understand perfectly,” I said.

I walked around the table, putting myself between him and the cabinet containing Thomas’s things.

“Your father loved this family, but he also loved life,” I said.

“He did not build this house to be a tomb.”

“He built it for us!” David shouted.

“He built it for me to live in,” I said, placing my hand on my chest.

“He wanted me to be safe, yes, but he never wanted me to stop living.”

David took a step back, his face flushing a deep, angry red.

“You are throwing his memory away for some old man you met at a gym,” he spat.