“Mom, you’re misunderstanding.”
“No.”
I opened a folder resting beside my chair.
“I finally understand perfectly.”
I laid several documents across the table.
Copies of the recordings.
Photographs from Reno.
Billing records from the elder-law firm.
The investigator’s report.
Finally…
the transcript of their private conversation.
Rebecca stared at the pages without moving.
Philip reached for one.
His hands immediately began shaking.
“You hired someone to follow us?”
“I hired someone to discover the truth.”
I calmly pressed a small speaker sitting beside my coffee cup.
Philip’s recorded voice filled the dining room.
