“Who is this woman?”
“I don’t know. But the paperwork is legitimate. Thomas signed it five years ago.”
Five years ago. While we were married. While we were supposed to be building our retirement together.
“Thomas signed it five years ago.”
I called the number on the contract that afternoon.
A woman answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Is this Grace?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Marlene. I’m Thomas’s wife.”
A pause, then, “I know who you are.”
That sent a chill through me.
I called the number on the contract that afternoon.
“Thomas passed away two weeks ago. I’m calling about the partnership agreement.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
The words sounded genuine, but her tone was carefully neutral.
“Can you tell me what this partnership is for?”
“We invested together years ago. Thomas insisted the payments continue no matter what happened to him.”
“Why?”
“That’s what we agreed on.”
“Thomas insisted the payments continue no matter what happened to him.”
She didn’t offer more. And I didn’t push.
But something in her voice felt rehearsed. Like she’d been preparing for this call for a long time.
***
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