Julian served me a slice of roast chicken.
“I know this is difficult for you,” he began. “You haven’t seen the daily decline. Mom forgets conversations. She accuses us of taking things. Last week she claimed Chloe locked her in the pantry.”
“Did Chloe lock her in the pantry?”
Chloe’s eyes sharpened.
“Of course not.”
“Then why would she say that?”
“Because she’s ill.”
Julian sighed.
“We didn’t want to worry you.”
“That was thoughtful.”
He mistook my calmness for surrender.
“We have arranged a place for her,” he continued. “A beautiful facility with trained staff.”
“Willow Haven?”
