I Married a Wealthy 79-Year-Old Woman for Her Money—After She Died, Her Lawyer Slid Me a Cardboard Box and Said, “You Walked Straight Into Her Trap”
Priceless.
PART 54 — MY NEW APARTMENT
I rented a two-bedroom apartment.
Nice.
Ordinary.
No stone gates.
No library.
No ghost jokes.
I put Florence’s chair near the window.
Coffee mug in the kitchen.
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