Then I noticed a strip of medical tape peeking out under Gwen’s sleeve, and a yellowing bruise where an IV had gone in.

I wanted to scream, to demand answers on the spot.

But I realized, standing there, that the house, the accounts, nearly everything, was legally in their names.

If I confronted them without proof, they could hide the money and pin all of it on Gwen.

So I told a careful lie.

“Actually, I came back because my company’s giving me a compensation package and shares worth close to four hundred thousand dollars,” I announced. “I just have to prove I already hold substantial property and investments in my own name here.”