Three Suitcases Left in the Rain and Nineteen Million Dollars in Cancun
“The locks were changed for safety reasons, and now the entire estate must be cleared for the thirty-five hundred dollar valuation.”
“Nathan knows about this?” I asked.
“Nathan agrees that we must be practical about the space now,” she said. “He is inside, packing up the remaining files in the study.”
I looked toward the study window, but the heavy drapes were drawn tight.
My son was hiding behind them, unwilling to face the consequences of his silence.
I picked up two of the heavy leather suitcases, their weight pulling hard against my shoulders.
“I will take my things now,” I said.
Sable did not offer to help, nor did she look at me as I began the slow walk down the long driveway toward the street.
The weight of the bags pulled at my joints, but I kept my chin up, walking past the manicured azalea bushes Gordon had planted on our tenth anniversary.
Behind me, the metal garage doors rolled shut with a harsh, clattering sound that echoed off the brick.
