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.”

Thomas did not answer immediately.

“Alive.”

My heart began pounding.

“Where?”

“Anna—”

“Where?”

“Florida.”

I stood.

“I want to see her.”

Thomas shook his head.

“That may not be necessary.”

“It is necessary to me.”

“There is one more thing.”

I wanted to scream.

Instead I laughed.

“Richard really did turn dying into a full-time project.”

For the first time, Thomas almost smiled.

“He did tend to overprepare.”