After my mother’s death, I sold her apartment, overwhelmed by grief, and bought a used RV to visit her hometown, where she left me a property. The RV broke down en route, stranding me until Oliver and his daughter Grace towed me to a station. At a motel, a photo fell from Oliver’s wallet—my mother. He revealed they lived together until she vanished. I showed him a letter in her handwriting, claiming he left her pregnant for another woman—Grace’s mother. Grace realized her mother forged the letter, breaking them apart. Furious, I
blamed Grace for having the father I never knew, and we argued. I left for the town alone. The lawyer revealed Oliver co-owned my mother’s house. Inside, I found photos of her and Oliver, happy together. My anger softened. Oliver and Grace arrived, and we scattered Mom’s ashes, finding closure. Grace left, giving me time with Oliver, my father. Inspired by Mom’s sewing tools, I decided to pursue design, building a new family with him.