For Fourteen Years My Son Lived Rent-Free in a House He Believed Was His
“We need first month, last month and a security deposit for a six-bedroom rental in Oakridge.
That’s twenty thousand dollars at the very least.”
I kept my hands folded together on the mahogany tabletop.
“You’ve got your business income,” I said quietly.
“My business is tied up in inventory,” Brandon snapped.
“You know that.
You cut off the corporate living allowance, and now you’re throwing us out on the street.”
“You cut that allowance yourself, the afternoon of your mother’s funeral,” I said.
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