The deed was declared void. My father’s trust held.
A judge granted my mother an emergency protective order. Lonnie and Colt were never allowed back in the house.
My mother filed for divorce from her hospital bed. She’d been dehydrated and had a urinary infection nobody had treated.
“I’m so ashamed,” she told me. “I let them do this to me. In my own house.”
“Mom,” I said. “You didn’t let anybody do anything. They took advantage of you. That’s what they do. That’s what I’m studying to stop.”
I took the spring semester off. I set up a home health aide through her insurance. I put a ramp on the back porch. I moved her back into her own bedroom, downstairs this time, in my father’s old office, with a big window over the garden.
In January, I transferred to the university here in Tucson. Closer to home.
