Arthur asked, his voice breaking apart completely. “Do you want us to beg? A public apology? We’ll do anything.”
“I want the house,” I said.
The line went silent.
“The house?” Arthur repeated faintly.
“Yes,” I said. “The home I grew up in — the one I have been paying the mortgage on for the past seven years. The deed is still in your name. I want it transferred continue reading …