“Maybe they moved it,” I said, though I already knew how weak that sounded.
“Maybe. But I found an unlabeled bottle in the kitchen utility drawer.” He held up his phone, not the screen, just the device. “I took a picture. I didn’t touch it.”
I pressed my fingers to my mouth. “You think someone gave her something?”
“I think she’s been kept barely alert enough to sit in that chair and look present.” Daniel’s voice stayed level, but the muscle in his jaw jumped. “There are people here who aren’t family. One of them has a folder with medical paperwork. Another one was on the back patio talking about ‘getting the signature before dinner.’”
For a second, the hallway seemed to tilt beneath my feet. I heard the party on the other side of the wall: forks against plates, polite laughter, Paige calling someone “sweetie” in the voice she used when she wanted witnesses.
“What signature?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t know yet?” My whisper sharpened before I could stop it. “Daniel, this is my grandmother.”
“I know.” His eyes softened, just for a moment. “That’s why I need you to stay steady. If we start throwing accusations around in there, they’ll close ranks, move whatever they’re hiding, and make us look hysterical.”
I wanted to hate that he was right. I wanted a simpler kind of anger, the kind where you burst into a room and truth follows because truth is strong enough. But my family had never worked that way. My father could make cruelty sound practical. Paige could smile while she cut you out of your own memories.
A floorboard creaked at the end of the hall. Daniel straightened.
Paige appeared near the kitchen doorway, carrying two plates of cake. “There you are,” she said. “People are asking where you went.”
“Just needed a minute,” I said.
Her eyes moved between us. “For what?”
Daniel took one of the plates from her with an easy smile. “Your cake is too good. I had to pace myself.”
Paige laughed, but her gaze stayed on my face. “Don’t wander too far. Dad wants to say something before the gift.”
“The gift?” I asked.
She paused. “A surprise.”
She left before I could ask anything else.
Daniel waited until her heels clicked away, then took my elbow. “We’re leaving after your father speaks. Until then, stay near your grandmother. Try to get her to say clearly whether she wants to leave the house or sign anything. Don’t push too hard.”
I nodded because there was nothing else to do. My body wanted to run toward Grandma, grab her hand, and pull her out of that chair. My brain knew she might not be able to walk to the door. It also knew that my father was standing between us and any easy exit, smiling for a room full of witnesses he had invited himself.
When we returned, Grandma’s cake sat untouched on a plate in her lap. Frosting had smeared against the napkin. I knelt beside her again and used the corner of the napkin to clean her fingers.
“Grandma,” I said softly, “do you know who I am?”
Her eyes opened with effort. “Don’t insult me. You’re my Nora.”
Relief moved through me so sharply it hurt. “Do you want to go somewhere tonight?”
Her lips trembled. She looked past me, toward the dining room. “They said it would only be until papers were fixed.”
“What papers?”
“Nora,” my father called.
I turned. He stood at the center of the living room, one hand lifted for attention. Paige had moved beside him, and the woman with the leather folder now stood close enough to hear every word.
“We just want to thank everyone for coming,” my father said. “Mom has had some difficult months, as many of you know. We’re all doing our best to make sure she has the care and stability she deserves.”
Grandma’s hand tightened around mine.
My father continued, his voice warm and heavy. “Paige has been a rock through all this. There are decisions ahead, adult decisions, and we’re grateful for the support of family.”