But the hotel was not the greatest gift.

The greatest gift was understanding that I had never been weak.

I had simply spent years surrounded by people who needed me to believe I was.

When the final firework burst above the lake, I signed the last document ending my marriage.

Then I turned toward the ballroom, where hundreds of employees and guests were waiting.

For the first time, the Bennett Grand no longer felt like my grandmother’s legacy or my father’s battlefield.

It felt like mine.