Chapter 3: The Paper on the Nightstand
I kept my eyes closed.
Every muscle in my body wanted to move.
My hands wanted to reach out and snatch whatever Lisa was holding.
But Walter had warned me.
And Walter had been right about everything so far.
So I stayed still.
Lisa set something down.
The sound was soft — paper against the plastic of the nightstand beside my bed.
"I'll be back tomorrow," she said.
"With a notary."
"What's a notary?" Walter asked.
"Someone official.
Someone who makes signatures legal." A pause.
"Don't touch that folder, Walter.
Don't even look at it."
His voice was very small.
"What if she wakes up tonight?"
"Then you call me immediately.
Not the nurses.
Me." Her heels moved toward the door.
"And if you say a single word to anyone about this conversation, I will make sure you are removed from this hospital and placed with a family you have never met.
Do you understand me?"
Walter said nothing.
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes," he whispered.
The door opened and closed.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
Then I opened my eyes.
Walter was standing at the foot of my bed, his back to me, both hands gripping the bed rail.
His shoulders were shaking.
"Walter."
He turned around.
His face was wet.
"She's been saying things like that every night," he said.
"Every single night, Granny.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't know who to tell."
I held out my hand and he came to me immediately, pressing his face against my arm the way he used to when he was much smaller.
"You did exactly right," I said.
"You stayed.
That was exactly right."
I looked at the folder on the nightstand.
It was pale blue.
Thin.
A small printed label on the tab read: *Property Transfer — Power of Attorney.*
My hand moved toward it before I could stop myself.
"She said don't touch it," Walter murmured.
"She said that to you," I said.
"Not to me."
I opened it.
The first page was a power of attorney document.
My name was printed at the top.
Below it, in the space reserved for the grantor's signature, there was already a mark — shaky, uneven, nothing like my handwriting, but shaped to suggest mine.
My stomach dropped.
"Walter.
When did your aunt first come to this hospital?"
He thought.
"The second day.
Maybe the third."
"Did she ever come in when I was alone?
Before you started staying?"
He hesitated.
"Once.
I came back from the bathroom and she was in here by herself.
She said she was just checking on you."
I turned to the second page.
There was a second document beneath the power of attorney.
A deed of transfer for the house.
My address.
My name as grantor.
Lisa's name as recipient.
And at the bottom, that same shaky, uneven signature.
She hadn't waited for me to wake up.
She had already signed for me.
I set the folder down on the blanket and looked at the ceiling.
The monitor beside me beeped steadily.
Walter watched my face.
"Granny?"
"I need you to do something for me," I said.
"And I need you to do it tonight, before she comes back tomorrow."
He straightened.
"What?"
"I need you to find Nurse Carol.
The one with the red lanyard.
She was kind to you, yes?"
"She brought me a sandwich yesterday."
"Good.
Tell her I'm awake.
Tell her I need to speak with the hospital's patient advocate.
Tonight if possible." I picked up the folder.
"And I need this kept somewhere safe.
Not in this room."
Walter looked at the folder, then at me.
"Are you going to be okay?"
I thought about the signature that wasn't mine.
I thought about Lisa's voice — so calm, so certain, so completely sure that I would never be able to argue about what I had signed.
"Yes," I said.
"But Lisa doesn't know that yet."
Walter almost smiled.
He took the folder carefully, tucked it inside his backpack beneath his school books, and slipped out the door.
I lay back against the pillow.
The monitor beeped.
Somewhere down the corridor, a phone rang twice and stopped.
I closed my eyes — not because I was unconscious, but because I needed to think clearly before tomorrow came.
May you like
And then the door opened again.
It wasn't Walter.
