first document,” I explained, letting every ruined person in the room hear every single syllable, “is the deed to a three-hundred-acre equestrian estate in the Santa Ynez Valley, just outside Santa Barbara. It features a private vineyard, a working orchard, a main house built of imported Spanish cedar, and a fully funded endowment to pay for its maintenance, property taxes, and staff for the next fifty years. It is registered exclusively in your name, Richard Sterling. No trust, no corporate entity, no co-signers. It is yours, free and clear.”
Tears