My throat tightened. “I need money. I didn’t come here for a story.”
“I know,” he replied. “But selling them isn’t your only option.”
Then he surprised me.
“I have some savings. And a lawyer I trust. It’s not endless—but it’s enough to stop things from getting worse while we figure everything out.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Because I loved your grandmother,” he said. “And she asked me to help.”
That broke me. I cried right there in the shop.
That afternoon turned into hours of phone calls and paperwork. His lawyer, Denise, helped review everything—mortgage, medical bills, even spotting errors in hospital charges.
Walter wrote a check to stop the foreclosure from moving forward.
“I’ll pay you back,” I told him.
He shrugged. “Then do it when life allows. For now, go take care of your kids.”
