Every Evening, My Husband Tipped Two Drops From a Small Dark Glass Bottle Into My Tea
On the note, written in Daniel’s neat, slanted cursive, was tax parcel number four hundred two B, my old valley property.
Directly beneath the parcel number, he had written the file box index code from my desk at the original brick house.
The missing valley property deed from my file box had not been misplaced by my old estate lawyer.
Daniel had taken the original deed weeks ago to attach to this petition.
Across the bottom of the form, a pre-printed checklist listed three required supporting documents.
The first checkbox was for a property valuation, the second for a land parcel survey, and the third for a signed physician’s statement of severe cognitive impairment.