My hands curled into fists.
“She said the smell of medicine made the bedrooms unpleasant.”
I stood up.
Naomi grabbed my wrist.
“Caleb, don’t.”
I looked down at her.
“You think I’m going to let this continue?”
“You don’t understand. They’ve been telling people I’m unstable. Your mother told everyone I spent your money. If you explode right now, she’ll make you look like the crazy soldier who came back angry.”
She was right.
And I hated that she was right.
I sat down again.
“Did they take all the money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you have proof?”
Her eyes shifted toward an old storage cabinet.
Inside was a grocery bag filled with envelopes.
Medical statements.
Bank notices.
Copies of denied payment requests.
One letter showed that Mom had transferred $18,000 into a personal account.
Another showed nearly $11,000 paid to a vehicle dealership.
Then I found something even worse.
