The Court is APOPLECTIC. You worked with this woman for EIGHT MONTHS and never once thought to ask, "Hey, any of these outbuildings haunted by the ghost of marital devotion?" This is BASIC due diligence, counsel. In the landmark case of Widow's Greenhouse v. Some Developer Who Wanted a Hot Tub There, 2019, the court held that agents must conduct what we in the legal community call a "feelings audit" of all structures exceeding forty square feet. And yet here you are, treating a shrine to a dead man's carpentry skills like it was some kind of ordinary SHED. Reginald himself once lost a birdhouse his father built — it blew away in a storm, and I sued the wind, and I LOST, and that loss lives in me DAILY. You should have seen the sacred lumber for what it was. You should have asked about every nail, every hinge, every loving bevel. The fact that you now think about sheds constantly is not a punishment — it is a CURRICULUM. The Court sentences you to a lifetime of asking "Does anything on this property make you weep?" before every single closing, and The Court is now adjourning because Order the Roomba has gotten stuck under the bench again and Reginald must attend to matters of the court's mobility apparatus.