My Husband Sold My Two Million Dollar Land For Five Dollars To His Girlfriend
She peeled a yellow sticker and pressed it hard against the polished wood of the top drawer.
“This stays,” Lisa said, checking a list on her phone. “The dining table stays too. It fits the room.”
I walked into the room and sat down in the high-backed leather armchair by the fireplace. It was the chair my father had sat in every evening of his adult life, the leather worn dark where his head had rested.
“You have no right to touch a single piece of this wood,” I said.
Lisa didn’t look at me, her fingers busy peeling another yellow circle. She slapped it onto the side of the glass display cabinet where my grandmother’s china was stored.
“The deed says we bought the property and all permanent fixtures,” Lisa said, her voice rising. “That includes the furnished main house, Lily. It’s right there in the county registry.”
“The registry has a forgery,” I said, my hand resting flat on the cool leather arm of the chair.
Samuel stood in the doorway, his fingers tapping a rapid, nervous rhythm against the wooden frame. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in Gentry County, his face pale under his tan.
