“For a few months,” Mom said. “That was the plan.”
Dad nodded.
Derek and Veronica had been renting a place across town. When their lease ended, Dad offered them my old bedroom until Derek found stable work.
At first, things went well.
Derek repaired a leaking section of roof. Veronica cooked 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 planning and quietly transferring control.
“Did you sign a power of attorney?”
Dad nodded.
“Limited, I thought.”
“For medical decisions?”
“And paying bills if I couldn’t.”
I looked at Mom.
“I signed something too.”
“Did either of you read it?”
Dad gave me a tired look.
“I read what Derek showed me.”
That answer stayed between us.
What Derek showed me.
Not what he signed.
I thought about Inez, my attorney, and hoped she was already finding the difference.
“What happened after that?”
Dad explained.
At first, Derek simply began handling utilities and grocery purchases. Then he reorganized the household account. Veronica started keeping receipts and telling my parents they needed a budget.
Mom had actually liked the idea.
“We thought they were becoming responsible,” she admitted.
Eventually, Derek suggested that the monthly money I sent should go through a new account so it would be easier to track household expenses.
“Did you agree?”
“We thought it was still our account,” Dad said.
I closed my eyes.
That explained why none of my transfers had bounced back.
The money had been arriving.
It just wasn’t necessarily reaching my parents.
“And the house?”
Dad’s expression hardened slightly.
“Still ours.”
