I have to call the facility administrator in the morning. I have to tell her that we are going to be late on our payment. That is the most painful thing I have ever had to say.

I keep wondering what Mom would say if she were still in there, if she could see the deck he bought with her memories. She would probably tell me to forgive him, because that is who she was. But I am not her. I am just a person who waited too long to look at the numbers.

I called Gerald one last time, just to hear his voice, to see if he would offer a scrap of an explanation. He didn’t answer. He probably knew exactly who was calling. I left a voicemail. I didn’t scream. I didn’t curse. I just told him that the investigators know everything and that the properties are already under a lien. I told him he should talk to his brother-in-law, because he is going to need a much better lawyer than the one he used to set this up.

I am terrified of tomorrow. I am terrified of the look on the administrator’s face when I tell her we can’t pay. I am terrified of having to move Mom out of the only place where she still feels safe. I did this to her. I let him in, and I let him stay, and now she is the one who has to pay the price. I hope this ends, but I know it won’t. Not for a long, long time.