“I want her out of here. I’m selling the house.” Beth looked at him for a moment before speaking. “Then sell it to me,” she said. “What are you talking about?” Wheatley said. “I’ll buy it. I’ll pay you whatever your equity is.” “It’s worth more than that now.” “How much more?” “I’d need seven thousand.” She knew his equity was less than five. “All right,” she said. “You have that much?” “Yes,” she said. “But I’m subtracting what I paid for burying my mother. I’ll show you the receipts.” Allston Wheatley sighed like a martyr. “All right,” he said. “You two can draw up the papers. I’m going back
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