How My Family Tried to Destroy Me and Ended Up Ruining Themselves
“What do we do with the houses?” I asked.
“You can sell them, or you can manage them,” Sarah said.
“They are yours to do with as you please.”
I looked at Wyatt.
“I want to sell the family home,” I said.
“I do not want to keep anything that belonged to them.”
“We will sell it,” Wyatt agreed.
“We can use the funds to start over, somewhere quiet.”
Detective Harper took a sip of his coffee.
“Arthur Bennett asked me to give you this,” he said, reaching into his pocket.
He set a small brass key on the table.
“It is the key to his garden shed,” Harper said with a slight smile.
“He said he is getting too old to pull the weeds, and he wants you to have the land.”
I took the key, its metal cold against my palm.
“Tell him I will take care of it,” I said.
The next week, Wyatt and I drove out to the old family home one last time.
The moving trucks were already gone, having cleared out the remaining furniture for auction.