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”

I noticed.

I let him.

A week later, Raymond called while I was sitting beside Thomas.

“Evelyn, have you finally handled that power-of-attorney paperwork?”

“No.”

“You should.”

“Why are you so fascinated by my paperwork?”

“Because someone needs to be.”