At twenty-five, my life was a blueprint of predictable success. As a structural engineer, I understood foundations—how they supported weight, how they resisted pressure, and how they kept everything from collapsing. I was planning a wedding, paying off a honeymoon in Maui, and listening to my mother, Naomi, fret over my diet and stress levels. My fiancée, Jenna, was the perfect partner in this curated life. She talked about our future children and helped me pick out an espresso machine for our registry. Then, the foundation of my world didn’t just crack; it vanished. My mother was killed in a...
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