“It’s gone, Loretta.

And by Friday afternoon, you’ll be sitting in an assessment ward at the county care center.”

Sloan stepped closer to the bed, holding a marker in her right hand.

“Do you really think a judge in Franklin County is going to take the word of a penniless seventy-three-year-old woman over a senior vice president of marketing?” Sloan asked.

I looked down at Sloan’s polished red fingernails resting on the lip of the plastic bin.

“David Vance is an elder law attorney,” I said softly.