She had a daughter who happened to have exactly the training required to see through the scheme and prove it, who happened to have the resources to fly home and the professional instinct to bring a camera.

Most vulnerable elderly people who are exploited by the ones meant to care for them have no such daughter, no such advocate, no such lucky combination of skill and timing.

Their suffering happens exactly where my mother’s did, in a private room, out of sight, papered over with a plausible medical story, and it goes unseen and unpunished precisely because there is no one to close the gap between what is happening and what can be proven.

I think about that constantly now.