Two weeks later, I was hanging laundry on the line when I heard tires crunching over the gravel road.
I turned around.
And froze.
A black limousine was slowly pulling up outside my trailer.
Right there.
In the middle of nowhere.
The back door opened, and a man in a gray suit stepped out.
He was carrying a sealed envelope.
My name was written across the front.
Margaret.
He walked toward me slowly.
“Margaret,” he said gently, “I’m Thomas’s attorney.”
My stomach tightened.
Then he held the envelope toward me and said,
“Thomas left very strict instructions that I deliver this to you personally.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
The attorney hesitated.
Then he said the words I would never forget.
“Because your husband wanted to make absolutely sure you got EXACTLY WHAT YOU DESERVED.”
My hands started trembling.
For one terrible second, I wondered if Thomas’s children had been right.
