Freeloader.<\/p>\n
The word echoed in her mind, bouncing off the walls of her memory. She had carried him in her womb when the doctors said it was risky. She had taken a second job to pay for his college tuition when Arthur\u2019s business had a bad year. She had nursed him through fevers, bailed him out of bad investments, and held him when his first fianc\u00e9e left him. And now, standing on the doorstep of the home she built, she was a \u201cfreeloader.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kevin was operating under a delusion that had festered since the moment the dirt hit Arthur\u2019s coffin. He believed in the ancient, unspoken law of the \u201conly son.\u201d He believed that without a specific will handed to him, the estate naturally reverted to the male heir. He believed his mother was just a guest in his inheritance\u2014a tenant whose lease had expired.<\/p>\n
A younger Martha might have screamed. She might have thrown a rock through the window. A weaker Martha might have collapsed on the porch and wept until the neighbors called the police, begging for someone to explain why her son hated her.<\/p>\n
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