My name is Emily, and the past year has been the hardest of my life.

I lost my boyfriend, Ethan, in a sudden car accident, only to find out shortly after that I was pregnant — with twins.

My pregnancy was high-risk,

and I couldn’t live alone,

so I moved into my dad’s house.

My dad welcomed me with open arms, but my stepmother, Veronica, wasn’t happy about it.

She stayed polite at first, but I could feel her disapproval.

Dad supported me every step of the way — until he unexpectedly passed away.

Two days after his funeral,

Veronica coldly told me I had 36 hours to leave.

She said the house was hers now and even brought her boyfriend over to intimidate me.

I left heartbroken and stayed at a shelter, where I discovered a manila envelope my dad had given me weeks earlier.

Inside was the deed to the house — in my name.

He had quietly made sure I’d be protected.

When I showed Veronica the papers with the police present, she was furious, but there was nothing she could do.

She had to leave.

Two weeks later, I welcomed my beautiful twin daughters into the home my dad fought to protect for us.

Even though he’s gone, his love is still here,

giving me strength every day.