I Brought Groceries to My Elderly Neighbor Every Sunday for Twelve Years. After His Funeral, His Lawyer Handed Me a Suitcase I Never Expected.
I dreaded the interview with Richard’s attorney.
She was a measured woman named Ellen Price, sharper and more considerate than I had expected.
She asked why I’d begun helping Arthur, how often I visited, whether I knew his bank balances, and when I learned about the trust.
Some questions she repeated in different ways.
I answered them all.
“Did Mr.
Sterling ever tell you he was disappointed in his son?” she asked.
“Yes.”