“Did he really think I’d sign this?” I asked.
Rebecca looked at me.
“He thought pressure would eventually feel easier than resistance.”
I thought of the bedroom floor.
Yes.
That sounded like Adrian.
Then Rebecca slid another file toward me.
Affidavit drafts.
Victoria’s name was at the top.
They described me as erratic.
Paranoid.
Forgetful.
Emotionally volatile.
One paragraph claimed I had become unable to follow routine household accounts.
Another suggested I was developing “episodes of unreasonable suspicion regarding family members.”
The dates beside several incidents were blank.
Waiting.
“What were they going to use these for?”
“We don’t know exactly,” Rebecca said. “Possibly leverage. Possibly to challenge transactions if you refused to cooperate. Possibly simply to frighten you into signing.”
I read a sentence twice.
Eleanor has increasingly withdrawn from family and resists reasonable assistance.
Reasonable assistance.
Exactly the phrase Adrian had used before hitting me.
