My son and daughter-in-law laughed when I walked into the courtroom. “Ha-ha, now we’re going to leave her with nothing,” Daniel whispered, certain the bruises they had put on my body would convince the judge I was confused, unstable, and hurting myself, but they had forgotten one important thing about me.

Daniel had known.

Not everything.

But enough.

Robert had apparently confronted him before his death.

Daniel knew that coercion could cost him the inheritance.

That was why he hadn’t simply demanded money.

He needed a court to declare me incompetent.

If a judge gave him control, he planned to argue that he had acted lawfully.

Out of concern.

Not coercion.

Not abuse.

The bruises were supposed to prove I couldn’t care for myself.

The altered medical records were supposed to make the judge believe my mind was failing.

The forged power of attorney was his backup plan.

Every road led to the same destination.

My money.

My house.

His inheritance.

Only Robert had built a wall at the end.

Officers approached Daniel after the hearing.

He wasn’t formally sentenced that day.