“Are you out of your mind? You want my mother to p…

Some part of me already knew, the way you know before the doctor speaks, before the door opens, before the word is said out loud. The body understands things before the mind agrees to. The folder contained eleven pages.

The first three were printouts: real estate listings. Five properties. Two condominiums in a newer development about eight miles from our house, one townhouse in a suburb I had never been to, and two single-family homes in a quiet residential neighborhood on the other side of the city.

Each listing had been printed with its photos and specifications, and each one had handwritten notes in the margins. Notes about square footage and bedroom counts, yes, but also other notes. Things like good for two households, separate entrances important, and ask about in-law suite potential.

One of the listings, a four-bedroom colonial with a wraparound porch, had a circle drawn around the price and the word feasible written next to it, underlined twice. I stood there for a moment. I told myself this might be nothing.