Chapter 185

• RICHARD’S POV
• The moment I pulled up to my mother’s house, I saw them—reporters. They swarmed the entrance like vultures, cameras flashing, microphones shoved forward, desperate to catch a piece of my misery. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. The last thing I needed right now was to face a barrage of questions, but there was no way around it.
• “Mr. Richard! Any comments on your father’s passing?” one shouted as soon as I stepped out of the car.