Chapter 5 - THE LEGAL COUNTERATTACK
Monday morning, the Albuquerque sun was blindingly bright. I met Sarah, a sharp, no-nonsense attorney in her forties, at a local diner before heading to the police station.
"Here is the strategy," Sarah explained, tapping her pen against her coffee cup. "We establish your competency and independence on the record immediately. We inform law enforcement that you fled a financially abusive situation and that your son may attempt to use false medical claims to locate you."
We walked into the precinct and sat down with a detective. I laid out my identification, the bank statements I had printed, and most importantly, photographs I had taken of Carter's sticky notes and the forged geriatric assessment before I left. I spoke clearly and articulately.
The detective ran my name. "Well, ma'am, your son actually filed a Silver Alert for you in California about three hours ago. He claimed you wandered off with severe dementia and are in imminent danger."
Sarah smiled coldly. "As you can see, Detective, my client is perfectly lucid. This is a malicious attempt to regain control of her finances."
The detective nodded, making a note. "I'll cancel the alert. And I'll be having a very stern conversation with the San Diego PD about Mr. Carter filing a false police report."
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By Wednesday, Sarah had filed a sweeping lawsuit against Carter and Karla in civil court, citing elder financial abuse, fraud, and emotional distress. We placed a legal freeze on any assets tied to the original 200,000 dollars, which immediately locked up Carter's primary bank accounts. The beast had been starved of its food.
In my quiet apartment, I finally had time to mourn. Not for the money, but for the son I had lost. The boy I had raised with Thomas was gone, replaced by a greedy, hollow man. I cried until my tears ran dry, and then, I washed my face and went out to buy groceries with my own money, for my own meals. I was done crying over Carter.
