“Sarah,” David snapped.
“No. No, I’m done.” She wiped her eyes. “David came to me in August. He said you were getting old. He said you were making bad decisions. Giving away money. He said if we didn’t do something, you’d lose the house and end up on the street, and we’d all have to take care of you.”
“I was giving money to you,” I said quietly.
“I know.” She was crying now. “I know, Mom. I knew it the whole time. That’s the worst part. He said the guardianship would protect you. And he said that once the house was sold, there’d be enough for your care and some left over for each of us. And I needed it so bad. I’m so far underwater on these cards. I can’t even open my mail anymore.”
“So you went looking at memory care,” I said. “In Everett.”
