Mr. Hartley, my mother’s attorney for twenty years, listened without interrupting. “Freeze the car lease, the tuition account, and the secondary card,” I said. “Cancel her household access too.” He paused so long I thought the call had dropped. “Naomi, I was about to phone you. Last week Gloria visited my office asking how to move the mansion into her name. I refused.”

My pulse quickened, and my laptop glowed with the accounts I had just frozen, my hands suddenly cold. Before I could answer, heavy footsteps hammered up the staircase. Someone pounded on my door. “Open up!” Gloria shouted. “Your father just signed everything over, and you are leaving tonight!” Then a second, quieter knock came. My father’s voice whispered through the wood, “Naomi, please, read what I really signed.”