“The only dangerous thing in this family,” I replied, “is a credit card in Paige’s hand.”
I hung up. But I knew the clock was ticking.
They would try to file for guardianship. They would try to declare him incompetent. I needed ammunition, and I needed it fast.
I needed a confession. Diane was too guarded, and Paige was too stupid to know the details. That left Julia.
Julia, the middle child. The one who craved validation. The one who handled the paperwork.
I invited her to lunch at Trattoria Rossi, a place too expensive for me but perfect for her ego. I played the part of the overwhelmed daughter. I told her Dad was difficult, that I was struggling, that maybe they were right all along.
She drank three mimosas. Her guard lowered with every glass. “It’s just so hard,” I sighed, stirring my coffee.
“I mean, how did you guys even manage his finances? It seems like a nightmare.”
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