For Fourteen Years My Son Lived Rent-Free in a House He Believed Was His

“Fifteen hundred dollars a month for me to stay in the guest house,” I said.

There was a short pause on the line, and then I heard the familiar sound of Margaret tapping her silver pen twice on her legal pad.

“He has no legal standing to demand rent from the president of the corporation,” Margaret said.

“Did he serve you with anything formal in writing?”

“No,” I said.

“Only blue ink on yellow paper.”

“Don’t sign anything, Robert.