Three Suitcases Left in the Rain and Nineteen Million Dollars in Cancun
“What appraiser, Sable?” I asked, keeping my voice as calm as I could manage.
“The one handling the estate evaluation,” Sable said, looking directly at me with her cold, pale eyes. “The main house must be entirely cleared of your personal belongings by tonight.”
“This is my home, Sable,” I said, my fingers finding the gold band on my finger again. “Gordon and I bought this house twenty years ago.”
“The estate has liabilities, Mother Reed,” Sable said, her voice rising to that familiar sharp pitch. “We cannot afford to let sentimentality get in the way of a clean liquidation.”
“Nathan,” I said softly, “is this what you want? To sell your father’s house?”
Nathan shifted in his chair, his hands remaining deep in his pockets as he stared at the brass salt shaker between us.
“We have to do what is practical, Mom,” Nathan said, his voice trailing off into a whisper that did not reach the corners of the room.
“And where am I supposed to go while this practical liquidation takes place?” I asked.
Sable smiled slightly, though her eyes remained entirely flat.
