I held the envelope to my chest like the only piece of family I’d ever been given—because it was.
“Touch me,” I said, “and you’ll find out exactly what Marianne taught me about standing up for myself.”
Arthur’s shoulders sagged briefly before his anger returned. He pointed a trembling finger toward the door.
“Get out. Take your papers and never come back.”
I gathered the envelope against my chest and walked past him without another word.
***
Weeks later, after the lawyers finalized probate, I took the train into the city.
