by Amy O'Connor
It was love at first sight. My husband and I couldn’t believe our luck. We met The One so early in our home-hunting process; the house was everything we’d ever dreamed of and more: neat and tidy, wrapped up in a bow.
Or so we thought when we offered asking price and had it accepted. We even bonded with the sweet little-old-lady seller, whose grandmotherly demeanor filled us with confidence about our impending purchase. I envisioned our closing date through a Vaseline-coated lens, complete with baked-from-scratch chocolate chip cookies provided by her and a group hug with both attorneys. Continue reading »
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