His foot moved once.
Ready.
At the psychiatric clinic, Abigail carried her thick folder.
I carried mine.
Dr. Leonard greeted us in his office.
Dad sat in the wheelchair staring blankly at a plant.
Marcus positioned himself near the door.
“It has become unbearable,” Abigail told the psychiatrist.
She squeezed my hand.
“He wanders. He doesn’t recognize people. And lately, he’s become violent.”
Dr. Leonard frowned.
“Violent?”
Abigail opened her tablet.
“I installed cameras because I became frightened.”
She started a video.
The footage appeared to show Dad inside our kitchen.
He grabbed a chef’s knife.
For illustration purposes only
Then lunged toward the front door.
Dr. Leonard leaned forward.
“This is concerning.”
“Marcus had to restrain him,” Abigail whispered.
I watched the footage.
Then I reached for the tablet.
“Doctor, could you pause that?”
Dr. Leonard nodded.
I froze the frame.
“Abigail says this came from our security system.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Dr. Leonard.
“It didn’t.”
Abigail’s fingers tightened around the chair.
“Sam.”
I zoomed in.
“The file metadata doesn’t match our camera system’s native export format.”
Dr. Leonard looked at me.
I continued.
“The encoding profile is different. The creation date doesn’t match the claimed recording date, and the file was rendered through editing software before being loaded onto this tablet.”
Abigail stood abruptly.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“I used to investigate financial fraud,” I said. “Metadata was part of my job.”
Then I reached into my messenger bag.
“But the video isn’t the real problem.”
I placed the manila folder on Dr. Leonard’s desk.
Abigail stared at it.
Her face changed.
Dr. Leonard opened the folder.
The first page was Dad’s financial transfer request.
The second was the proposed power of attorney.
Then came the forged DNR.
The deleted security logs.
