Ch 30 : The end? Not yet!
I spent the night at the bedside of eighty-five-year old Julian R. Eastman.
Me, Turtle, as known as T.R, am thirty-seven years old now. I was the only one heir who got an inheritance, also, only one heir who may inherit the chairman of Westing Paper Products Corporation.
Sandy is a turning points of my life and he is the only one I trust.
At that time, we were talking about other heirs.
Then suddenly Sandy interrupted me and said, “Turtle?” So I said, “Yes, Sandy. I am here.” He had kept calling me. Then he said, “Turtle… tell Crow to pray for me.” I was hollering his name. “Sandy??...Sandy!” I felt hopeless. Yes, I was, also, I am.