PART 2
The next morning, Alvin walked through the grand front door of his parents’ home, pretending he had just arrived in town.
The moment Veronica saw him, her demeanor shifted from cold authority to sickeningly sweet hospitality. “Alvin! Your parents are doing wonderful! Derek and I have been taking such good care of everything.”
Derek poured him a cup of coffee. Carmen walked in from the back hallway, and Veronica instantly called her “Mom,” though Alvin had heard her tone the night before.
Throughout breakfast, Veronica repeatedly dropped subtle remarks, claiming Manuel was becoming increasingly forgetful, and that Carmen “really shouldn’t worry her little head with bills or legal paperwork anymore.”
Alvin just smiled politely, nodding along.
When he went to grab his coat, he felt a small slip of paper tucked into his pocket. He opened it in the hallway. Written in his mother’s shaky handwriting were five words:
Don’t ask questions in front of them.
Two hours later, Alvin arranged to meet his mother at a quiet diner downtown. He pulled out his banking records and showed her the monthly four thousand dollar transfers he had been sending for the past year.
Carmen’s face drained of color. “Derek told us you were only sending a few hundred dollars a month to help with groceries…”
Alvin pulled up the forensic trail on his tablet. The moment his funds hit Carmen’s primary account, automated transfers routed the money straight into a private LLC registered under Veronica’s name.
“Where are your debit cards, Mom?” Alvin asked gently.
Carmen lowered her gaze, her hands trembling in her lap. “Veronica keeps them in her safe. She said… she said it was better so we wouldn’t lose them.”
Just then, Alvin’s phone rang. It was Inez.
“Alvin, it’s worse than we thought,” Inez said flatly. “Derek and Veronica have been quietly gathering medical evaluations and affidavits. They’re preparing to petition a court to declare your parents legally incompetent to manage their own financial affairs.”
Alvin stared out the diner window toward the river, his pulse pounding in his ears.
They weren’t just taking over the house out of convenience. They were constructing an official, legal narrative, and they were weeks away from stripping his parents of their rights permanently.
