most evenings. They drove Mom to medical appointments and helped Dad deliver two custom cabinets he had made for an old client.
Then Dad had pneumonia.
Nothing life-threatening, but serious enough that he spent several days in the hospital.
“That’s when the paperwork started,” he said.
My stomach tightened.
“What paperwork?”
“Derek said we needed to organize things. In case something happened.”
That was not unreasonable by itself.
Dad was seventy-two. Mom was seventy.
A family discussing wills, medical decisions, and finances wasn’t suspicious.
But there was a difference between
