“Police contacted me about Dad.”
I stayed quiet.
“Did you tell them something?”
“Why would I?”
She stopped.
Then.
“Have you talked to Hannah?”
Interesting.
I asked.
“Why Hannah?”
Silence.
Melissa changed direction.
“Dad is confused.”
“Where is he?”
She hesitated.
“Silver Pines.”
I closed my eyes.
She lied instantly.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Can I visit?”
“Not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“He gets agitated.”
I looked through the hospital window.
Dad was sitting in a wheelchair beside Hannah.
A speech therapist stood nearby.
I asked.
“What room?”
Silence.
Then Melissa snapped.
“Why are you interrogating me?”
I almost laughed.
Old Ethan would have exploded.
New Ethan waited.
Then she said,
“I have to go.”
She hung up.
Laura whispered.
“She lied knowing you might already know.”
“Yes.”
“That helps.”
It did.
The police obtained warrants.
Bank records.
Email.
Phone backups.
The forged power of attorney became central.
Notary Carla Benson initially claimed Walter signed in person.
Then investigators showed hospital records.
Walter was undergoing a CT scan at the exact time she claimed he sat in her office.
Carla changed her story.
She admitted Melissa brought the document already signed.
She notarized it as a favor.
That was enough.
The financial chain started collapsing.
Dean, my uncle, cooperated quickly.
His company had received six hundred thousand.
He claimed Melissa told him Dad wanted to invest in a real estate deal.
Dean spent some.
Returned what remained.
His records showed Melissa directed everything.
Then MC Advisory Group.
Owned entirely by Melissa.
No real services.
No employees.
Just transfers.
The police arrested her six weeks after I saw Hannah beneath the bridge.
Not dramatically.
Not at a family dinner.
At her condo.
