The attorney's name was Paul Drent.

He arrived two days later, not at the Santoro house, but at a small office above a pharmacy three blocks away — a location June had arranged through Dr.

Mercer's assistant, using June's personal phone, paid for in cash.

Rocco had told no one in the house where he was going.

He had told Lucia he needed a routine blood draw at the clinic.

Grant had offered to drive him.

Rocco had said June would take him.

The look on Grant's face when they left had been answer enough.

Paul Drent was a compact man in his sixties with reading glasses pushed up on his forehead and a desk covered in organized stacks that only he understood.

He shook Rocco's hand, studied him for a moment the way doctors sometimes did — assessing without announcing it — and then sat down.

"Dr.

Mercer briefed me," he said.

"I've already pulled some records.

I want to show you what I found before we talk about next steps."

He turned his monitor to face Rocco.

"This is the medication administration log submitted to your neurologist's office over the past four months." He pointed to a column of neat entries.

"Daily.

Consistent.

Signed by the home care coordinator."

"Lucia," Rocco said.

"The signature matches hers, yes." Drent pulled up a second document.

"This is the pharmacy dispensing record for the same period.

Your prescription was filled once.

Six weeks ago.

One bottle.

The bottle June found under the cabinet."

Rocco looked at both screens side by side.

"She was filing records for medication that was never dispensed," he said.

"Correct." Drent leaned back.

"But that's not the part that concerns me most."

He opened a third document.

"Three months ago, a petition was filed with the county court.

A petition for guardianship." He let that word sit for a moment.

"Filed by Lucia Santoro, citing her father-in-law's progressive neurological decline, his increasing inability to manage his own affairs, and documented evidence of medication non-compliance."

June made a sound that wasn't quite a word.

Rocco said nothing.

He read the document from the top.

"She was building a case," he said finally.

"She was building a case," Drent confirmed.

"The false medication logs establish a pattern of non-compliance — which she created by withholding the medication.

The worsening spasms, the disorientation, the memory gaps — all documented by her, all submitted as evidence of deterioration.

If the guardianship petition had been granted, she would have had full legal authority over your medical decisions, your finances, and your property."

"My son," Rocco said.

"Where is my son in this?"

Drent was quiet for a moment.

"Your son Marco has been in Portugal for the past seven months," he said.

"He believes, based on reports sent to him by Lucia, that your condition has declined significantly and that you have become — her word — combative and delusional."

The word landed like a physical thing.

"She told Marco I was delusional," Rocco said.

"Yes."

"And Marco believed her."

Drent didn't answer immediately.

That was answer enough.

Rocco looked at the window.

A delivery truck was moving slowly down the street outside.

Ordinary.

Unhurried.

The world continuing as it always did.

"Can the guardianship petition be stopped?" he asked.

"It hasn't been granted yet.

The hearing is scheduled for three weeks from Thursday." Drent folded his hands on the desk.

"If we move quickly, yes.

We can not only stop it — we can use the false medication records as the basis for a counter-filing.

Fraud.

Elder @buse.

Falsification of medical documents submitted to a court."

"What do you need from me?"

"Your cooperation.

Your medical records, which Dr.

Mercer is already preparing.

Edwin's testimony, if he's willing." Drent paused.

"And one more thing."

He pulled a fourth document from the stack.

"Your original estate documents.

The ones you signed eight years ago." He pointed to a clause near the bottom of the second page.

"This gives your primary home care coordinator co-signatory authority over non-emergency medical decisions in the event of documented incapacity." He looked up.

"Do you remember signing this?"

Rocco stared at the page.

"No," he said slowly.

"I don't remember this clause."

Drent nodded once, carefully.

"That," he said, "is the second thing we need to talk about."