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across the table. This one, I said. A savings account that you were the sole co-signer on, Mom. An account I, as executor, had never heard of. An account that was not listed anywhere in the estate.
Mark Dalton snatched the paper, his eyes scanning it, his smarmy confidence visibly draining away. This is, this is irregular, but. It’s theft, Mom, I said.continue reading …
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