the last paragraph.
“My children will inherit my businesses, my investments and the house in which they grew up. You never tried to take those things away from them.”
Rebecca’s smile disappeared.
I looked at the brass key.
Finally, the lawyer spoke.
“Richard bought something six months before he got sick.”
He placed a document in front of me.
It was the writing of a small house by the lake.
I recognized the address immediately.
Richard and I had spent there one weekend once.
I had been standing on the porch and I had jokingly said:
“If I could choose any place to get older, I would choose a place exactly like this.”
He remembered it.
The house was mine.
Completely paid.
Then the lawyer turned another page.
There was also a trust, not the enormous fortune that everyone expected me to fight for, but enough for me to never
