I crouched beside her.
“Grandma.”
She looked at me for several long seconds.
Then she stood.
No tears.
No questions.
She walked toward my car, climbed into the passenger seat, and buckled her seatbelt.
“Don’t call them,” she said.
I looked at her.
“I’ll tell you where to drive.”
“Where?”
“First, the county courthouse.”
That immediately got my attention.
Once we were back on the highway, she opened her purse and handed me a folded bank statement.
Three withdrawals were circled in red.
Twelve thousand dollars.
Eighteen thousand.
Twenty-five thousand.
