EPILOGUE: WHAT MARGARET KNEW
The strangest part of all this is that I still think about Margaret sometimes.
About the birthday cards.
About the crisp twenties tucked inside.
About the way she once glanced around my kitchen after a holiday dinner and said, “At least one person in this house understands maintenance.”
At the time, I assumed she meant the countertops or the roast or the table settings.
Now I think she meant something else.
Character, maybe.
Endurance.
The discipline to see clearly and move carefully.
The day Scott called me in the middle of my presentation, he believed money had made him the most powerful person in my life.
But power without patience is just exposure waiting for the right document.
I signed every page with a smile because by then I already knew the truth he didn’t.
A man can inherit millions and still be too careless to keep any of it safe.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
