I showed up to Christmas dinner on a cast, still limping from when my daughter-in-law had shoved me days earlier.

Most disturbing was a notebook—her manipulation diary. In it she’d written lines like:

“Sophia is more generous after talking about Richard—bring up memories first.”

“Always ask for money when she’s alone.”

“Jeffrey is too soft; I have to push him.”

She’d mapped my habits, my schedule, even which friends made me emotional. I photographed every page, every document, and stored copies on my computer and in the cloud.