She didn’t do it because she was broke. She did it to punish him, because he’d found out about her scam before he died. She couldn’t stop him from making the video, so she tried to erase his grave, so nobody could ever come visit him.

When Nora gave me the address, I was so angry I couldn’t even speak. Thomas, the old gardener, insisted on coming with me. He said a son shouldn’t have to go find his father alone.

The public cemetery was a horrible place, far from the fancy neighborhood where Reagan lived. There were no trees, no nice grass—just dry dirt, broken plastic flowers, and stray dogs running around.

A worker walked us to a row at the very back.

“It’s this one right here,” he said, pointing to a rusty piece of metal in the dirt.

I dropped to my knees.