The following day, I asked the hospital social worker, “Has Lisa tried to get custody of Walter?”
“She’s asked about temporary guardianship.”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“She has consulted about it,” the woman explained carefully. “Your medical condition raised questions about Walter’s immediate care.”
“What questions?”
“Whether you would be physically capable of resuming full responsibility.”
“Because of the crash?”
“Among other things.”
“My eyesight.”
She paused. “That was mentioned.”
Of course it had been.
When Walter came back that afternoon, I asked, “Did you see Aunt Lisa near my glasses that morning?”
He frowned. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“She was near your purse. I think she had something in her hand.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really watching.”
It wasn’t proof.
But it was enough to keep the suspicion alive.
So I waited until I was discharged.
Lisa offered to drive me home.
I declined and took a cab.
Once home, Walter helped me search again.
“You once put your phone in the freezer.”
“Once.”
“Twice.”
“Traitor.”
Then I remembered the security camera near the front door.
My purse had been directly in its view that morning.
We pulled up the recording from the day of the crash.
Walter leaned toward the screen. “Oh, there she comes.”
“Shh.”
He moved even closer. “She’s opening your purse.”
“I see it.”
“Granny… that’s your glasses case.”
On the screen, Lisa removed the case and slipped it into her handbag.
My stomach turned.
For years, I had confused refusing to believe the worst about Lisa with loving her.
I couldn’t do that anymore.
Walter whispered, “Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because she wants me?”
I looked at him. “She’s wanted you for four years.”
“Why?”
That was exactly what I needed to understand.
Before confronting Lisa, I went through Daniel’s papers.
Insurance.
Taxes.
Medical bills.
Then I found what I had been looking for.
I read the first page three times.
“Granny?”
I turned the papers facedown.
“You okay?”
“I think I just figured something out.”
“About Aunt Lisa?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Something I should’ve seen years ago.”
“What is that?”
“I’ll explain when you’re older.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s exactly what Aunt Lisa says when she doesn’t want to answer me.”
“Please don’t compare me to your aunt today.”
After Walter left, four years of Lisa’s behavior began fitting together.
I had been asking the wrong question.
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