My Husband Sold My Two Million Dollar Land For Five Dollars To His Girlfriend
“Five dollars is not a purchase price for two million dollars of Texas pasture,” I said.
The deputy tipped his hat to me, climbed back into his cruiser, and drove slowly down the driveway, leaving the dust to settle over the yard.
I turned back toward the house, but the sight of the living room made me stop. The yellow stickers on my mother’s dresser felt like tiny brandings on my own skin.
Marcus Fitzgerald did not look up when we entered, his silk cloth moving in small, rhythmic circles over his wire-rimmed glasses. Elena Vance stood close beside me, her wooden clipboard pressed flat against her ribs like a shield. I sat in the leather chair opposite his desk, my fingers tracing the cold edge of my silver belt buckle.
“The deputy refused to act without a judge’s signature, Marcus,” I said, keeping my voice as slow and steady as I could manage.
Marcus slid his glasses onto his nose and adjusted them. He reached into a thick manila folder on his desk and pulled out a stapled document with a blue backing.
