Faith slammed her palm on the table, making the silverware clatter.
“Enough. This is ridiculous. Mom, you’re coming with us right now. We’ll go to your apartment. You’ll pick up your things, and you’ll come live with us where we can properly care for you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”
“And I’m telling you that you have no right over me. I am an adult woman in full mental capacity, and I make my own decisions.”
“The hearing is in five days,” Grant said. “The judge is going to hear all the evidence we have. The neighbors from your old house who reported seeing you disoriented. The hospital staff who noticed changes in your behavior before you retired. Everything is documented.”
Lies. Every word was a carefully planted lie—testimonies they had probably fabricated or manipulated to build their case.
“Let them present what they want. I have my own evidence. Psychological evaluations that demonstrate my complete mental capacity. Social worker reports that confirm I live independently without problems. And above all, I have the truth.”
“The truth?”
Faith laughed bitterly.
“Your truth is that you’re stubborn, headstrong, refusing to accept that you need help. That’s not the truth, Mom. That’s your ego refusing to admit you can’t do everything alone anymore.”
I stood up. Audrey did the same immediately, stepping beside me in a gesture of silent support.
“I have been doing things alone for seventy years, Faith. I raised a daughter alone after your father died. I built a house alone. I made my way in a profession alone. And I am going to end my days alone. And that means keeping my dignity intact.”
“Mom, please.”
