Jonah shakes his head. “Wren didn’t leave you all that money so you could piss it away on custom screens and hot tubs and a fucking three-thousand-dollar fake antler chandelier!” He throws an accusatory hand toward the large box that arrived last week sitting by the fireplace. The local electrician is coming to hang it tomorrow. “You said you didn’t want it lookin’ like a hunt camp in here!” “Hunt camps don’t have three-thousand-dollar chandeliers!” I yell as my indignation flares. “I am not pissing my money away. And he left it to me, Jonah. I don’t need your approval on how to spend it!”
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