“She also filed something this afternoon,” Howard said.
I looked at him.
“An emergency petition in probate court. She’s asking for a temporary guardian over your financial affairs, citing erratic behavior, the sudden sale of a major asset, and your son’s testimony that
you’ve been confused.”
“My son’s testimony.”
“A sworn statement. Signed this morning, an hour before he showed up at your gate.”
For a long time I said nothing. Rain ran down the windows. Somewhere in the walls, the old house ticked and settled, the way it did when Raymond used to walk through it at night.
Trevor had gone to my gate with tears and an apology. And that same morning, he had signed a paper saying his mother had lost her mind.
“When is the hearing?”
“Thursday. Nine a.
m.”
“Then we’ll be ready,” I said.
Part 4
The probate courtroom was smaller than I expected, with pale paneling and a carpet the color of old tea. I wore my navy suit, the one I’d worn to Raymond’s funeral. I had put makeup over the bruise, but not too much. I wanted the judge to see it if she looked.
