The Court has reviewed this confession and finds itself PHYSICALLY NAUSEOUS at the sheer preventable tragedy on display. You watched this man careen toward emotional bankruptcy like a shopping cart rolling into traffic and your response was to narrate the journey. Three hundred and forty thousand dollars is not an insult to anyone's dead mother, it is a NUMBER, and numbers do not have opinions about the deceased, REGINALD HAS CHECKED. The sister calling you is particularly damning because it suggests a pattern of this man being unmanageable and yet somehow YOU were surprised when he chose structural decay over negotiation. I once had a seller threaten to haunt me from beyond the grave if I let his house go for under asking and you know what I did, I got him a therapist's card and a roofer's estimate ON THE SAME DAY. This Court finds you guilty not of malice but of something almost worse: you brought a clipboard to an exorcism. The house will rot, the sister will blame you at Thanksgiving, and somewhere that dead mother is shaking her head because she ALSO knew about the roof. VERDICT RENDERED, Reginald must now go water his fern, she has seen too much today.