“You don’t need to drag lawyers into a simple family illness, Mom.”

He unzipped the folder, took out a three-page document printed on crisp white paper, and smoothed it flat on the table.

“What’s that?” I asked, staying where I was by the counter.

“Just some routine paperwork for the bank,” Julian said, pointing his pen at a black line near the bottom of the page.

“Just sign the witness line, Mom, it’s routine paperwork for the bank.”

I walked over to the table, picked up the first page, and read the bold heading across the top.