My Son Struck Me Thirty Times at His Birthday Dinner. The Next Morning, I Sold the Mansion He Thought He Owned.

It reminds me I should have stopped protecting you sooner.”

I ended the call.

The room was quiet.

Howard took off his glasses and cleaned them with a white cloth.

“He’ll come after you.”

“I know.”

“Legally, he has nothing.”

“I know that too.”