My son and daughter-in-law started to laugh when i entered the courtroom: “Ha-ha, now we’re going to leave her with nothing.” But they didn’t know one thing about me, and as soon as the judge looked at me, he said: “Mrs. Eleanor Vance? Is that you?”

“We drain them slowly.”

The footage switched.

Vanessa scattered spoiled groceries inside my refrigerator while Daniel disabled the automatic utility payments. Moments later, Curtis’s voice came through the speakerphone.

“Make it look organic. Confusion, neglect, paranoia. Judges like patterns.”

Curtis shot to his feet.

“That recording is privileged!”

“You were advising fraud,” I said. “Privilege does not protect that.”

Judge Mercer’s expression hardened.

Daniel turned toward his attorney.

Curtis glanced toward the courtroom exit.

Then I submitted the deed they had copied.

The house belonged to the Eleanor Vance Irrevocable Trust.

Daniel was not a beneficiary.

He never had been.