No one knew I went to the bank. I didn’t usually go myself. But to my surprise, there he was….

I wasn’t supposed to be there that morning. I hadn’t planned it. I wasn’t dressed for anything but the usual.

Old flats, my soft gray cardigan, no makeup. I just woke up with this strange urge to check something at the bank. Not even fear.

Just a nudge. Like a whisper in the back of my mind that wouldn’t let me sit still. So I grabbed my purse, locked the front door, and drove seven minutes down to the branch on Belmont Avenue.

The same one Charles and I had used for over thirty years. The parking lot was unusually empty for a Thursday. I remember thinking that.

I stepped out, closed the car door gently, and walked toward the glass entrance. My hands were steady. My breath normal.

Nothing in me expected what I was about to witness. Not a single part. Then I saw him.

Michael. My son-in-law. Standing at the far end of the lobby, just beyond the reception counter.

Wearing that pale gray suit he only puts on when he wants to seem professional. Trustworthy. Like when he gave that long, trembling speech asking for my daughter’s hand.

I’d known then that something in him was rehearsed. But this? I slowed my pace. He was speaking to the branch manager.

Calm, composed, with a polite smile. He didn’t see me walk in. I slipped behind the tall divider near the waiting area.

Not hiding, exactly. Just… observing. Something about his presence felt out of place.

That’s when I heard it. Her name is Margaret Ellis. We’ve been handling things for a while now.

She doesn’t recognize anyone in the family anymore. Her doctors agree it’s progressing quickly. At this point, she’s not expected to return to full awareness.

I froze. That’s my name. My full name.

Coming from the mouth of a man I had trusted, fed, welcomed into my home for more than a decade. She’s under medical guardianship now, he continued, handing over a folder. We’re just formalizing everything so the accounts don’t get misused.

She won’t be returning. Not in any legal capacity. I couldn’t breathe…