Then back at me.
“You manipulated him.”
I felt something inside me break.
But for the first time since Thomas died, I did not lower my eyes.
“I loved your father before he had anything worth taking.”
She said nothing.
The attorney handed them copies of Thomas’s instructions.
His son read the first page and went pale.
Their inheritance depended on following Thomas’s wishes.
No lawsuits.
No harassment.
No removing anything from the house.
And no disrespect toward the woman Thomas had chosen to spend the final chapter of his life with.
Three days later, two boxes arrived at the trailer.
Inside were my clothes.
My wedding ring.
Several photographs.
And at the very bottom was the picture I had begged for.
Thomas was standing beside me at our small wedding.
