Chapter 24 - RICHARD GETS OLD
I turned ninety.
Annoying.
My knees became unreliable.
My hearing became selective.
Lily accused me of pretending not to hear when she discussed dating.
Correct.
I remained trust protector until eighty-five.
Then resigned voluntarily.
Independent successor appointed.
No family patriarch forever.
That mattered.
I kept one thing:
The original trust-protector acknowledgment I signed after Eleanor died without properly reading.
Framed?
Absolutely not.
It stayed in a drawer as evidence of my own failure.
At ninety, Lily asked:
“Do you still blame yourself?”
“Yes.”
“For not knowing?”
“For choosing not to know.”
She looked at me.
“You found me.”
“After almost ten hours.”
“You didn’t put me there.”
“No.”
“Then keep the bad thing the right size.”
I smiled.
She had learned precision from Naomi.
May you like
Or me.
Maybe both.
