At five in the morning, my cabin security alarm shattered the silence and my phone started buzzing — the young guard at the gate whispered, “Ma’am, your daughter-in-law just arrived with a moving truck and three men. She’s saying she owns the place now. I didn’t run to the door. I didn’t beg or argue. I stared at the Colorado mountains outside my window and simply told him, “Let her in.”
The security alarm shattered the stillness at exactly five in the morning. One sharp tone that cut through the mountain air, followed by the buzzing of my phone on the nightstand. I didn’t jump. I didn’t panic. I simply opened my eyes and stared at the wooden beams above me, watching the faint glow of dawn filter through…
