But the actual mortgage was $1,400 a month.
Who paid the other $920?
I did.
Every month.
Without fail.
For three years.
From my widow’s pension of $1,600 a month, I contributed $920 to maintain the house where I lived like a servant.
I did a quick calculation on the last page of my notebook.
Down payment and initial furniture: $84,730.
Monthly mortgage contributions: 36 months times $920.
$33,120.
Repairs, improvements, and extra expenses: $18,950.
Total invested: $136,800.
$136,800.
Almost everything I received from the sale of my suburban house.
Everything David and I built over forty-two years of marriage.
Invested in a house where they treated me worse than a stranger.
But the most important thing—the thing that gave me real power—was hidden at the bottom of the sewing box.
I reached in and pulled out a yellowish manila envelope.
Inside were the original deeds to the house.
I opened them with trembling hands.
There it was in the notary’s handwriting, clear as day.
