speak.
The house.
The beautiful old home where I had spent every Sunday listening to his stories.
The place where he kept photographs of his late wife.
The garden he could no longer see but still remembered by the smell of the roses.
The house where I had once jokingly told him that if I ever became rich, I’d buy him a new television.
He had remembered.
The lawyer continued.
“And the property comes with a fully funded educational account.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
“I can’t accept this.”
The lawyer smiled.
“You don’t get to refuse it because he already made the decision.”
I looked at Patrice.
She was staring at me with disbelief.
Then anger.
“You manipulated him.”
The words hit me like a slap.
“I never asked him for anything.”
“You knew he was wealthy.”
“I didn’t.”
“You knew he was lonely.”
“Yes.”
“
