“Did I forget lending you ninety thousand dollars for your startup — before you told your mother it had been a gift?”

His face reddened. Dad cut in. “This is not the time for family history.”

“This is exactly the time,” Grandma said, and handed me the first document. “Claire, read it.”

It was a signed statement from a neurologist confirming that Evelyn Margaret Whitaker was mentally competent, financially informed, and fully capable of making independent decisions.

The next was from a psychiatrist. The third had been prepared by her estate attorney.

“You planned this,” Aunt Linda whispered.