Linda sat at the kitchen table and cried quietly. I made her tea, set her medication beside it, and apologized.
She shook her head. “You didn’t do it.”
“No,” I said. “But I didn’t see it soon enough.”
The next weeks were ugly. Ethan called, texted, and accused us of destroying his future. Ashley posted vague messages online about “greedy older generations.” Then the attorney’s letters arrived, the company board was notified, the locks were officially changed, and the trust was rewritten.
Our daughter, Megan, flew in from Denver when she learned what happened. She hugged her mother for a long time and said, “You’re coming to stay with me for a week. Dad too.”
That week became the first peaceful vacation Linda and I had taken in years.
Three months later, Ethan came back alone. No Ashley. No demands. He stood on the porch with red eyes and a grocery bag in his hand.
