“That’s what they’re counting on.”

A wave of nausea swept through me.

My own daughter, planning to have me declared incompetent, to seize my assets—all while smiling to my face and leaving her child in my care.

“What do we do?” I asked, hating the tremor in my voice.

Luka straightened his tie, a gesture I recognized from his courtroom days.

“First, we document everything.