Tom’s conversation with Dad didn’t go as planned. Our father, sitting in his favorite armchair, was defensive from the start. “Hannah has been nothing but good to me,” he insisted, his eyes narrowing at the suggestion of impropriety.
“We’re just trying to understand some of the charges,” Tom explained, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s about making sure everything is above board.” But Dad wasn’t having it. He waved off our concerns with a dismissive hand, insisting that Hannah had explained everything to him.
Back in the kitchen, Tom and I regrouped, frustration evident in our faces. “He doesn’t want to see it,” Tom said, shaking his head. “He trusts her more than he trusts us right now.”
That thought lingered in my mind as I pulled up my email, searching for any correspondence from Hannah that might shed light on her decisions. Among the mundane messages about appointments and medication refills, there was one email that stood out—a confirmation of a meeting with a new financial advisor, someone we had never heard of before.
“This is bigger than we thought,” I muttered to Tom, who peered over my shoulder at the screen. “We need to talk to this advisor, see what they know about Hannah’s involvement.”
It was a lead, a direction to follow, but it also meant diving deeper into a situation that was becoming increasingly murky.
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