My husband's dead. She's at my door. She owns my home... The doorbell rings, just days after my beloved husband's sudden death. I don't recognise the woman on our doorstep, with her buttery blonde highlights, a diamond bracelet identical to my own and a bouncing baby boy in her arms. As I show her inside, I notice her eyes grow wide as she takes in our spacious hallway, and the big squashy sofas that...