I cried anyway.
Not for the house.
Not for the money.
But because the man who had made me feel safe for the first time in years was gone.
After the funeral, Richard’s lawyer asked me to come to his office.
When I arrived, Richard’s three children were already there.
Nobody greeted me.
On the lawyer’s desk was a small wooden box.
There was no visible will.
No thick pile of documents.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair with a slight smile.
Then the lawyer looked at me.
