The second page was a contract.
The third page took the air out of my lungs.
Melissa had completed an intake form for me.
Medical needs: declining memory, confusion, increased dependency.
Behavioral concerns: stubbornness, paranoia, emotional instability.
Financial decision-maker: Brian Bennett, son.
Preferred transition date: within sixty days.
I read that last line again.
Within sixty days.
They were planning to remove me from my own home.
Not eventually.
Soon.
I clicked through the rest of the documents with the cold patience of a man who had spent forty years finding the lies hidden inside numbers. There were consultant notes. Scanned utility bills. A copy of my driver’s license.
And a draft power-of-attorney form.
My signature was on it.
Except it was not my signature.
It looked like someone had traced it from an old check.
For a long moment, I sat completely still.
Then I looked at the photograph of Helen on my desk.
