I opened the door and hugged Hazel on the freezing porch. From her coat pocket, she pulled out a crumpled paper she’d taken from Lindsay’s folder. It was a draft court petition asking that Derek and Lindsay become my financial guardians, claiming I was confused and incapable of handling my own money. Even worse, a doctor Lindsay knew was prepared to support their claim.

Inside, Lindsay insisted it was a misunderstanding. Derek went pale and admitted he’d signed paperwork in October without reading it because Lindsay said it was meant to “help” me. Then Hazel revealed what she’d overheard: her mother saying I lived alone, owned my house outright, and “would never notice.” Christmas had been designed to keep me away until they filed the petition in January. I calmly put down my tea. There was something Lindsay didn’t know—I had been preparing for this possibility for months.