A Goth Girl Visited My 73-Year-Old Mom Every Saturday—After Her Funeral, She Handed Me a Key and Revealed My Mom’s Final Secret

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I set the groceries down, still looking at Dad’s chair.

Raven noticed.

“Am I sitting somewhere I shouldn’t?”

“No,” I said too quickly. “It’s fine. So how do you two know each other?”

“We met over coffee,” Mom said.

“At the bookstore café,” Raven added. “She told me I was reading a terrible book.”

Mom smiled. “It was terrible.”

“I thought I was spending the continue reading …