Inheritance
"Tom," Allan yelled as he burst through the door. His wife, Deirdre, stood sideways by the fire. "Where is the little scamp?" Allan demanded, knowing Deirdre protected their son.
"How should I know? He left with you." Deirdre frowned. "What happened?"
"I was at the pub with the lads, reached for my purse, and it was gone."
"What makes you think Tom is responsible?"
Allan lowered his brows. Deirdre still stood facing him, despite the bubbling in the pot.
"Deirdre…"
"Yes?"
Little Tom's small hand darted out from behind his mother's skirts and tossed the purse at his father's feet.