It was Shawn Pruitt, acting as sole trustee.

Then Colette, hands shaking, showed me her phone.

A text Shawn had sent his father that very morning: Get moved in today.

Once Edmund sees people living in the house, he’ll be a lot easier to pressure into signing the rest.

And beneath it, Greg’s reply: And if he won’t cooperate, we’ve still got the incompetence papers.

I had braced myself, over the years, for a certain amount of entitlement from Shawn.

I had never once imagined a cold, written plan to strip away my rights and erase me from my own life while I stood there breathing.