The refrigerator was empty. My wife’s hands were trembling. And upstairs, my daughter was livestreaming her new designer bag, bought with the money meant for food. “Dad won’t do anything,” Mia whispered to her boyfriend.

Brent grabbed her arm tightly. “Don’t say anything.”

“Excellent advice,” my attorney said. “Unfortunately, a little late.”

Party guests slowly lowered their phones as tension swallowed the room.

My attorney opened a folder.

“We possess evidence of unauthorized account access, forged signatures, theft of personal property, financial abuse of a medically vulnerable individual, and recorded intent to isolate and remove Elena Carter from her own home for financial gain.”

Mia laughed too loudly. “Mom gave me permission.”

Then Elena’s voice drifted softly from the staircase.

“No, I didn’t.”