“At a certain age, Alvin,” she said smoothly, “peace of mind matters far more than independence for elderly parents.” Carmen set her teacup down with a small, sharp clatter.

Manuel kept his eyes on his plate.

And Alvin just smiled.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said.

Twenty minutes later, Veronica came into the living room holding a blue leather folder.

“Actually, Alvin, since you’re here, there’s one small administrative form we could clear up before you catch your flight.” She handed him a document, a formal acknowledgment recognizing Derek and Veronica as the primary estate managers for Manuel and Carmen, to be signed by Alvin, the eldest son.

“Who drafted this?” Alvin asked.