“He was getting ready to file an emergency petition under state mental health laws to have me committed to a care facility in Westchester.”

Grandmother Margaret didn’t flinch or gasp.

She raised her right hand and rapped her silver-tipped cane twice, hard, on the polished hardwood floor.

“He meant to have you declared mentally incompetent,” Grandmother Margaret said, her voice dry and blunt as old parchment.

“To break the emergency trust clause by becoming your court-appointed conservator.”

“He had the medical evaluation notes drafted back in November,” I said.

“Sierra gave me the text logs to prove it.”