The sectionals, the silk curtains, my first-edition books — all of it vanished into three unmarked trucks.

And I had given one instruction, over and over, until Faye promised me it would be followed to the letter.

“Leave his things.

His suits, his gaming console, his golf clubs, all of it.

Do not touch one item he bought with his own money.” I wanted no argument that I had taken a single thing that wasn’t mine.

I wanted the record spotless.