“My Daughter Tried to Send Me to a Nursing Home—But She Didn’t Know I Still Owned Everything.”

The line rang three times.

“Law offices of Daniel Mercer,” a calm woman answered. “How may I direct your call?”

My throat tightened. I hadn’t said this name out loud in decades.

“I… I need to speak with Mr. Mercer,” I said. “My name is Sophia Ferrer.”

There was a pause, the faint clicking of a keyboard.

“Do you have an appointment, Ms. Ferrer?”