Temporarily became indefinitely.
“Why would you volunteer?” I asked.
Mom looked embarrassed.
“Because every conversation had become exhausting.”
That was the first thing she said that I fully understood.
Sometimes people did not surrender because somebody forced them.
Sometimes they surrendered because they were tired.
Tired of explaining.
Tired of disappointing people.
Tired of being told every disagreement was proof they were selfish.
Dad placed his hand over hers.
“We kept thinking Derek would come back to himself.”
“And did he?”
Neither answered.
My phone vibrated.
Inez.
I stepped outside the workshop.
“Tell me.”
Her voice was alert.
“I found the property trust.”
“We just found the physical copies.”
“Good. Then your parents’ house is protected.”
I breathed out.
“What about the accounts?”
“That’s messier.”
“How messy?”
“The monthly transfers you’ve been making are landing in an account where your parents are still named, but Derek was added as an authorized agent under a financial power of attorney.”
“Can he withdraw?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I’m still reconstructing it.”
My jaw tightened.
“Freeze everything.”
“I already requested temporary restrictions on the account you fund. But Gabriel, listen to me before you assume the worst.”
I looked through the workshop window at Dad and Mom.
“What does that mean?”
“Most of the spending I can see isn’t luxury spending.”
I said nothing.
“Mortgage-related fees, groceries, utilities, insurance, vehicle payments, medical expenses. There are withdrawals I need explained, but this doesn’t look like somebody emptied the account and bought a sports car.”
“That makes it better?”
“No. It makes it more complicated.”
I hated complicated.
Complicated meant I could not simply be angry.
“Can you come tomorrow?”
