You have no standing to restrict my access.”

“You have no business poking around in here!” He stepped closer, trying to use his height — a tactic that might have worked on a civilian sister. “Priscilla and I are taking care of Dad’s affairs.

His mind is gone, Claudia. You’re overstepping.”

“I’m preserving a crime scene.” I stepped past him, my shoulder brushing his. “Stay out of my way, Rodney, or I’ll have you arrested for obstruction.”

I went straight for the kitchen, scanning. The house smelled stagnant — the sour air of deliberate neglect. The granite counter was cluttered with greasy fast-food wrappers and empty over-the-counter medicine bottles.

None of it belonged to my father’s prescribed regimen.