so did his right to occupy the penthouse.
I paid the fee.
At seven o’clock, two movers arrived.
I packed everything that belonged to me.
Clothes.
Books.
Files.
Artwork.
My espresso machine.
Dining chairs.
Lamps.
Kitchenware.
The walnut desk Madison wanted for her studio.
Every cable, dish, shelf, and piece of furniture I had personally purchased.
I touched nothing that belonged to Dad.
Mom’s piano stayed.
His golf clubs stayed.
His favorite chair stayed.
I photographed every room before leaving.
Inside one drawer, I discovered several birthday cards I had
