She stared at the floor, her hands trembling against her skirt.
I reached into my leather clutch and pulled out the thick manila envelope, bearing a red wax seal. and set it on the walnut table before him, the paper making a soft, sliding sound against the wood.
“Happy sixty-fifth birthday, Dad,” I said softly.
Richard studied the wax. His shaking fingers reached forward, breaking the red wax with a sharp crack, before removing the legal documents. He retrieved his reading glasses, and put them on with unsteady hands.
“The