I Buried My First Love After He Died in a Fire 30 Years Ago – I Mourned Him Until I Realized Who My New Neighbor Was

Camille’s smile stayed on, but her hand shook when her phone lit up: “BOARD EMERGENCY SESSION — TODAY.” She glanced at me.

She lowered the phone slowly. “You’ll regret this.”

“No. You’ll regret underestimating your son, and the poor mechanic’s daughter that he loved.”

She hesitated, then retreated, shoulders stiff. I didn’t take my eyes off her until the doors closed.

Gabriel let out a shaky breath and turned to me. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re not alone anymore. Neither of us is. But this is just the beginning of a fight.”

“You’ll regret this.”

Janet grinned. “Come on. Let’s go tell the world what really happened 30 years ago. It’s time to knock your mother off her pedastal.”

I looked at Gabriel, not Elias. Not the ghost. Not the boy I buried.