Read the rest of this story in 1st comment 
The first line said:
“Margaret, if you’re reading this, then my children did exactly what I was afraid they would do.”
I stopped breathing.
The attorney quietly pulled a folding chair from beside the trailer and helped me sit down.
I kept reading.
Thomas had written the letter only six weeks before he died.
“My love,
I know you never wanted my money.
That is exactly why I need to protect you from it.
My children have convinced themselves that you came back into my life because of what I own.
They don’t understand that when you loved me the first time, I didn’t have two dollars in my pocket.”
Tears blurred the words.
I remembered Thomas at seventeen, standing outside my parents’ house with soaked hair and muddy shoes.
