Wendell in a dress jacket, smiling beside a banner.

A red, white, and blue organization with a name designed to sound older and more established than it was.

“Mom, were donations going through your account?”

“I don’t know.” Tears formed.

“I told him I didn’t want anything to do with the banking.”

“That doesn’t make you responsible for everything he did,” I said.

“But we need the statements.

And we need a lawyer who works for you, not him.”