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had survived a war zone. He had a face mapped with deep lines, the kind of face that had seen every variation of human greed and foolishness the legal system had to offer.
“This Is My House Now,” He Yelled—Until The Lawyer Revealed The Truth
He walked up to me not with urgency, but with quiet inevitability.
“Mrs. Mitchell,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Richard Brennan. Your mother’s attorney.”
