After the funeral, the house felt empty in a way I can’t really describe. Everything reminded me of her. The smell of her shampoo in the bathroom. The half-finished book on her nightstand. The quiet that suddenly filled every room.

My father seemed lost too.

For weeks he barely spoke. He spent most evenings sitting in the living room staring at old photos.

So when he asked my brother and me to sit down with him one evening, I thought he just wanted to talk about Mom.

Instead, he told us something that made my stomach twist.

He said he had fallen in love.

And he didn’t want to hide it anymore.

At first I thought I misunderstood him.

But then he said her name.

Victoria.

My mother’s younger sister.

My aunt.