In the late 1990's, my sister, Sheila - whose name I am not even supposed to mention - was living in a lovely suburban home with all the assets and benefits.
I was recovering from my first battle with cancer. I was widowed, homeless, unemployed and living on welfare. And I was the victim of a robbery that was tearing my life apart.
Sheila told me that she resented the fact that her husband had to pay taxes to support people like me.
And still I am fighting for her right to her share of our father's estate stolen by a stranger named Kenneth Gregoire Prud'homme, one of my niece Dawn McSweeney's "partners in crime".
All the details at
DAWN MCSWEENEY AND HER PARTNERS IN CRIME