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“I hope you slept well,” I said, pouring coffee.
“Better than I have in years,” he replied. Then he looked at me, his expression turning serious. “Before I go, I need to ask you something unusual.”
He reached into his worn leather bag, pulled out a folded document, and placed it on the table.
“Would you sell me this house for one dollar?”
I blinked, thinking I’d misheard him. “I’m sorry — what did you say?”
“One dollar,” he repeated. “You and your children can pack your things and leave today. I’ll take care of everything.”
I laughed nervously. “That’s absurd. This is our home. Why would I just give it away?”
