Her eyes narrowed.
“You think those children can inherit?”
I smiled.
That was the first time she looked uneasy.
“What have you done?” she asked.
“Raised them.”
And my children grew into a storm.
Naomi became a civil rights attorney whose voice could make judges lean forward. Marcus built software that hospitals used to track newborn records. Caleb became a forensic accountant. Isaiah became an investigative journalist. Ruth, the quietest, became a geneticist.
I never pushed them toward revenge.