The Morning After I Buried My 77-Year-Old Husband, His Lawyer Told Me I Had Inherited Nothing. Then He Handed Me a Photograph from My Foster-Care File and Said, “Richard Was Never the Man Who Saved You—He Was the Man Who Owed You Everything.”

“Yes.”

“Then why should I forgive him because he felt guilty when he got old?”

Thomas’s face tightened.

“You shouldn’t.”

I stopped.

He continued.

“Forgiveness was never part of Richard’s instructions.”

For some reason, that silenced me.

Thomas looked toward the window.

“He told me you might hate him.”

I remembered Richard’s dying words.

Listen before you hate me.

“He said something else,” Thomas continued.

“What?”

“He said, ‘If Anna forgives me too quickly, make sure she understands she doesn’t owe me that either.’”

I sank back into the chair.

That sounded like Richard.

Infuriating.