sitting at my kitchen table drinking tea.
“Every document is legally valid,” Walter told him calmly. “You are welcome to challenge the trust, but you will lose.”
Raymond stared at me with fury.
“You foolish old woman.”
I looked directly at him.
“No, Raymond. I am a woman who was deeply loved. There is a difference.”
He left without another word.
That spring, I moved into Thomas’s family home.
Every Sunday morning, I made a cup of black coffee, sat beside the window, and opened one of his letters.
I
