at his wife of forty years. There was no anger left in his face. Only profound disgust remained. He carefully drew his legs away, leaving Eleanor sprawled on the rug, her diamonds rattling against the floor.
“You stole the roof over my head,” Richard whispered, his voice hollowed out by absolute grief. “You sold my grandfather’s home… to buy dresses.”
“She didn’t sell it, Dad,” I said quietly, tapping the papers before him. “Look at the bottom of the last page.”
Richard lowered his gaze. Through tears, he found the