Patricia went pale.
“That never happened.”
For the first time since he arrived, Geoffrey looked frightened.
Not physically frightened.
The deeper kind.
The kind that comes when several pieces of your life suddenly stop fitting together.
He sat down slowly.
“What is going on?”
I looked at Patricia.
She nodded.
I went to the desk and brought back a copy of the power of attorney.
I placed it in front of him.
Geoffrey stared at it.
His face lost color.
“What is this?”
“You tell me.”
He picked it up.
Read the first page.
The second.
Then the third.
His hands began trembling slightly.
“Where did you get this?”
“My bank.”
“This isn’t real.”
“No.”
He looked at the signature.
“Dad, you didn’t sign this.”
It was not a question.
“No.”
He looked at the notary block.
Then he whispered, “Lydia.”
“You know her?”
“Allison used to work with her.”
