“Victoria is doing exactly what your father would have wanted.”

“My father left the house to me.”

“He left you a headache.” Richard picked up the desk lamp and turned it in his hands.

“Look, I’m not the villain here.

I just want a quiet life.”

“Then let me in.”

He set the lamp down and opened the door about a foot.

I could see the hall table, and the bare spot where my father’s umbrella stand used to sit.