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her expensive leather purse.
I came home from my trip and slid my key into the lock. It wouldn’t turn. I tried again. Nothing. I called my son. “Ryan… what’s going on?” He sighed. “Dad, this is for your own good. We sold the house.” Behind him, Diane nodded like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “You’ll be better off, Walter.” I slowly sat down on the porch steps, looking at the door that used to be mine. Then I smiled… and texted my lawyer.
Beverly walked up the driveway, her heels clicking authoritatively on the concrete, the officers trailing just behind her. She didn’t greet Ryan. She simply opened her sleek leather briefcase and pulled out a thick manila folder.
