“It’s a schedule for home health aides,” Sylvia said, turning her shoulder toward me.

“For your mother-in-law, Martha.

I know how much time Rachel spends driving across town to handle Martha’s daily routine.”

Ethan scanned the page, his shoulders sinking two inches as he read.

“This agency provides six hours of daily help,” Ethan said.

“They cover bath visits, meal preparation, and transportation.”

I stepped around the exam table and took the paper out of Ethan’s hands.

Along the right-hand margin were three handwritten figures in Sylvia’s dark blue ink.