read them in silence.
Then he looked at me.
“She wanted us to sell.”
“Apparently.”
“And when we didn’t, she started destroying the place?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
We didn’t jump to conclusions about every detail. The police were handling the vandalism, and we decided to let the attorney deal with the property issue.
Still, the possible motive made me feel sick.
Our home wasn’t an investment opportunity to us.
It was where we’d built our life together.
It was where we’d celebrated birthdays, hosted family dinners, planted the
