Chapter 19 - MY MOTHER’S LAST REQUEST
“Do not keep the mansion.”
I stared at her.
Of all the things I expected, that was not one.
“What?”
Florence’s breathing was shallow.
“The house is too big. Too expensive. Too full of dead people.”
I laughed once through my nose.
She squeezed my fingers.
“Sell it.”
“What do you want done with the money?”
“Half to the trust. Half to you.”
“Mom—”
“You are allowed to inherit something without apologizing.”
That sounded like her.
She asked about Martin.
I told her he was in custody.
She asked about Victoria.
I hesitated.
“She admitted taking money.”
Florence closed her eyes.
“Of course she did.”
“You say that like you expected it.”
“No. I say it like I am tired.”
Fair.
For several minutes we sat without talking.
The monitor made soft, regular sounds.
I hated it for being calm.
Then Florence opened her eyes again.
“Edward.”
“I’m here.”
“You will be tempted to make decisions because you are angry.”
“I already have.”
“Yes. You get that from me.”
Her mouth twitched.
“Do not stay married because leaving feels cruel. Do not divorce because staying feels weak. Do not forgive because I am dying and you want a clean ending.”
My throat tightened.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Live long enough to decide.”
That was the last advice my mother gave me.
Florence died at 3:18 the next morning.
There was no dramatic final sentence.
No sudden music.
Her hand simply became heavier in mine.
A nurse came in and turned off the monitor.
I sat there for almost an hour.
When I finally stood, Dad’s ring slipped from my palm and hit the floor.
I bent to pick it up.
Inside the open compartment, beneath where the paper key had been, I noticed something engraved into the gold.
Two words.
FLORENCE HOUSE.
Not our mansion.
The shelter.
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