Julie unfolded the third page and read it slowly. “It says that you agree to leave your home permanently and be moved to Willow Crest Residence the day you are discharged, with Brandon as your only decision maker.” She looked up. “The deposit receipt in this folder is dated the day he stayed fourteen minutes.” My stomach turned cold, because that was the day he had told the nurses he was too busy to visit.

The door opened, and a nurse hurried in. Brandon pushed in behind her, saying I was confused and upset. Julie stepped between his chair and my bed. “Mrs. Whitmore is perfectly lucid,” she said, “and I am asking this nurse to call the hospital social worker right now.” Brandon’s face went white, and the room grew very quiet.