I finally figured it out

When a soul (new or old) purifies its heart, as a reward, he (or she) is, in the next life, born into a Mexican family.

I'm impatient. Having no interest in dying soon, I'm moving to Puerto Vallarta. There, my soul mate (whom I last knew as my employer and who reincarnated as an Aztec king eight months to the day after he died in a hotel in New York City), awaits me for our legal wedding.

But I have much unfinished business in my beloved, native United States. Today, my attorney, who once worked for Paul Hastings and ran the War Room of attack lawyers for Walmart, will begin a systematic bringing-to-justice of those who have significantly abused me over the years. This will first include my former employer, and Alyson Books in New York. It will quickly include several banks, including Citibank, American Express (I hope they are forced to remove "American" from their name), Wells Fargo, and SunTrust.

As an aside, I add: Thank God for Bank of America!

Those who abused my former employer, Tennessee Williams, will also be brought to task: Michael Remer, John Eastman, et al.

But I have no time or inclination to give away details now. My lawyer advises me against it. I'll leave her to fight the battles as I move on to a richer life.