“Of whom?”
She looked at me.
“You.”
I stared at her.
“But I wasn’t there.”
“I know.”
She handed me a report.
At the top was my name.
Beneath it were statements describing memory loss, paranoia, emotional instability, and poor financial judgment.
My hands shook.
“Who wrote this?”
“A physician who appears to have relied on information supplied by your son and Malcolm.”
I stared at the page.
They’d been preparing to question my competence before Trevor ever struck me.
Before I sold River Oaks.
Before the forged transfers were discovered.
Then Grant pointed toward the final paragraph.
**RECOMMENDATION: FORMAL CAPACITY EVALUATION PRIOR TO MAJOR FINANCIAL DECISIONS.**
I laughed bitterly.
They wanted to make me seem incapable of controlling my money.
Then provoke me into making a dramatic decision.
Then use that decision as proof that I was unstable.
The pieces fit together with horrifying precision.
I looked at Grant.
