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”
That was enough.
PART 26 — THE NIGHT IN THE KITCHEN
I found Florence sitting in the dark.
“You should be in bed.”
“So should you.”
I sat.
She held my hand.
“Are you afraid?”
I asked.
“Of dying?”
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