“I did no such thing.”
“No, Adam,” Mr. Kent said. “She is being repaid.”
The room went silent.
Madison blinked. “Repaid for what?”
The accountant opened another folder.
“Out-of-pocket medical expenses, private care, treatment travel, and other costs Gwen covered during Walter’s illness.”
“She is being repaid.”
Adam scoffed. “Dad had money.”
“He did,” the accountant said. “But much of it was tied up. Gwen used her savings for urgent needs.”
Madison stared at me. “You paid for things?”
“I paid for what he needed.”
Adam shook his head. “You expect us to believe she drained her accounts out of love?”
Sally spoke before I could.
“You paid for things?”
“She was there every time I visited. Gwen worked remotely just to be there for your dad.”
Adam turned on her. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know what I heard yesterday,” she said. “And I know what I saw.”
Mr. Kent slid the folder across the table.
“It’s documented. Walter reviewed the amounts while fully competent. The reimbursement account was funded and signed before his final decline.”
“She was there every time I visited.”
Madison opened the folder.
Her face changed as she read.
- Receipts.
- Bank transfers.
- Invoices.
- Hotel stays near the treatment center.
- A night nurse.
- A medical recliner.
- Pharmacy bills.
- Parking receipts.
Her hand stopped on one page.
“This date,” she whispered.
The accountant nodded. “That was the weekend you were away.”
Madison opened the folder.
The spa weekend.
The weekend she told me to hire another nurse with her father’s money.
Adam flipped through the folder like the pages might change.
“This proves nothing.”
Mr. Kent placed one sheet on top.
“It proves Walter knew.”
Walter had circled one caregiver invoice in blue ink.
“It proves Walter knew.”
Beside it, he had written:
“Gwen needed help that night. They came long enough for a photo.”
Madison covered her mouth.
I remembered that night.
She had come for 20 minutes, taken a photo with Walter, posted it online, and left before his pain medication wore off.
“Gwen needed help that night.”
That same night, I paid someone to stay because I was too tired to lift him safely.
Sally looked at Madison.
“You called her a gold digger while she was spending her own money keeping your father comfortable?”
Madison didn’t answer.
Adam stood. “This is emotional manipulation.”
Mr. Kent didn’t blink. “It’s documentation, Adam. Walter was adamant about paying Gwen back. He said no monetary value could compensate for how you two treated her, but he wanted to make sure she wasn’t left carrying the cost alone.”
“You called her a gold digger.”
