It was being used to support their lifestyle.
David had told me they couldn’t afford rent.
Brooke had told me groceries were becoming impossible to manage.
I had quietly paid their electricity bills, bought winter clothes for Emily, and postponed repairs to my own roof.
Meanwhile, they were spending money that wasn’t theirs.
But the most painful discovery involved the petition questioning my mental capacity.
Brooke had obtained a letter supposedly written by a physician who had never examined me.
The physician later confirmed that the letter was not authentic.
And attached to the petition was a witness statement bearing David’s signature.
He claimed that I frequently forgot where I lived, confused family members, and became verbally aggressive when questioned about money.
I read the statement three times.
Then I called my son.
He answered on the second ring.
“Mom?”
“Did you sign a statement saying I don’t know where I live?”
Silence.
“David?”
He exhaled.
“Brooke said it was standard paperwork.”
“Did you read it?”
“Not carefully.”
“Did you sign it?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Then you lied about me.”
“Mom, I didn’t realize what she was going to do with it.”
“You knew what it said.”
He began speaking quickly.
He told me Brooke had been under enormous stress.
