Thomas nodded.
“I agree.”
Alicia looked relieved.
“For that reason,” he continued, “I assume you’re here to offer to hire a gardener.”
Her smile disappeared.
“No.”
“A housekeeper?”
“No.”
“A property manager?”
“That’s not practical.”
Thomas folded his hands.
“I see.”
Silence settled over the room.
Finally, he looked directly at the folder sitting in front of Alicia.
“May I?”
She hesitated.
“It’s just some information.”
“I’m sure.”
She didn’t move.
Thomas smiled politely.
“Then you won’t mind.”
“I’d rather explain it first.”
“I’d rather read it first.”
For the first time since she’d arrived, Alicia looked uncertain.
She slid the folder across the table.
Thomas opened it.
His eyes moved steadily across the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
He never changed expression.
He simply turned another page.
Another.
When he reached the signature page, he closed the folder.
Very gently.
“Interesting.”
Alicia forced a laugh.
“I thought you’d appreciate how straightforward everything is.”
“Oh, I do.”
He tapped the folder.
“It’s extremely straightforward.”
Mark shifted in his chair.
Thomas looked at me.
“Dorothy, have you read any of this?”
“No.”
“Has anyone explained that signing these documents would immediately transfer ownership of your home into an irrevocable family trust controlled by your children?”
The room froze.
I turned toward Mark.
“What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“It isn’t exactly like that.”
Thomas opened the folder again.
“It is precisely like that.”
Alicia’s voice sharpened.
“The trust is for protection.”
Thomas nodded.
“Protection from whom?”
“Scammers.”
“Has Dorothy been scammed?”
“No.”
“Cognitive decline?”
“No.”
“Medical incapacity?”
“No.”
“So she is mentally competent.”
“Of course.”
“And currently owns her home outright.”
“Yes.”
Thomas folded the papers.
“Then why would she voluntarily surrender complete control today?”
Nobody answered.
Thomas wasn’t finished.
He pulled a single page from the middle.
“This clause is particularly interesting.”
Alicia reached toward it.
Thomas lifted it out of reach.
“If the trustee determines the property should be sold for Dorothy’s benefit…”
He paused.
“…Dorothy’s consent is not required.”
I stared at Alicia.
“You could sell my house…”
“No,” she interrupted quickly. “Not like that.”
Thomas read aloud.
“‘The trustee shall have sole discretion regarding sale, management, transfer, or liquidation of trust assets.'”
He lowered the paper.
“That means exactly like that.”
Mark finally spoke.
“We’d never actually do it.”
Thomas looked at him.
“Then why include the clause?”
Mark opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Thomas continued reading.
“And if the home is sold, Dorothy may be relocated to housing deemed appropriate by the trustees.”
My heart began pounding.
“Housing?”
“It’s just legal language,” Alicia said.
Thomas looked at her.
“Legal language has legal consequences.”
She crossed her arms.
“You’re making this sound sinister.”
“I’m reading what your attorney wrote.”
Another silence.
Thomas slowly returned every page to the folder.
Then he asked the question no one else wanted to hear.
“Who drafted these documents?”
“A lawyer.”
“I assumed that.”
“I don’t see why that matters.”
“It matters because I’d like the attorney’s name.”
Alicia hesitated.
Finally she answered.
“Harrison & Cole.”
Thomas frowned.
“I know them.”
Alicia brightened.
“Wonderful.”
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“They specialize in estate restructuring after family disputes.”
Nobody breathed.
Thomas looked directly at Alicia.
“They do not generally prepare documents like these unless someone specifically requests that control of assets be transferred immediately.”
Her face went pale.
He turned to me.
“Dorothy…”
“Yes?”
“I recommend you sign absolutely nothing.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
He stood.
“So am I.”
He slipped the folder into his briefcase.
Alicia shot to her feet.
“You can’t take that.”
Thomas looked at her.
“I absolutely can.”
“Those are our papers.”
“They concern my client’s property.”
“I’m not your client.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Dorothy is.”
That was the first time I’d heard him say those words aloud.
My daughter looked at me as if she had suddenly realized the afternoon was no longer going according to plan.
Then Thomas reached into his briefcase and placed a sealed envelope on the kitchen table.
“I wasn’t planning to bring this up today,” he said quietly.
“But after reading these documents…”
He slid the envelope toward me.
“I think it’s time you finally saw the paper Raymond specifically instructed me to keep hidden until someone tried to convince you to give up this house.”