“Well, then, let’s discuss arrangements.”
She handed it to him.
“A little surprise.”
Ryan tore away the brown paper.
The first thing he saw was a thick leather document folder.
The second was a framed photograph.
The third was a large brass key attached to a small metal tag.
He went pale.
The folder slipped from his hands.
The photograph struck the floor, glass cracking across the image.
He stumbled backward.
“Mom…”
Margaret stood perfectly still.
“What the hell?” he whispered.
“You can’t do this!”
I looked down at the broken frame.
It showed a beautiful white house with a wide porch, tall windows, and a garden full of flowers.
I had never seen it before.
Ryan had.
He was staring at the photograph as though it were a ghost.
Margaret’s voice was almost gentle.
“Actually, Ryan, I can.”
He looked at the key.
Then at the folder.
