At 73, I Married My Dying High School Sweetheart as His Final Wish—After the Funeral, His Lawyer Knocked on My Door and Said, “You Walked Right Into His Trap”
“Enough.”
“Aunt Margaret knew him.”
He froze.
Small.
But visible.
“What does Margaret have to do with this?”
“You brought her up almost every time you called me.”
“She was my aunt.”
