Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document
“Absolutely not,” I said.
“Brenda, listen to the whole offer.”
“I said no.”
Arthur put his glasses back on.
“Then sign the petition.
Judge Raymond’s running the emergency docket at ten.
He hates surprises, so I’ll tell him about the voicemail myself.”
I picked up his pen.
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