Patricia frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Twenty-three.”
Mark looked at his sister.
Apparently, even he hadn’t known she had counted.
“That doesn’t include physical therapy, pharmacy runs, car dealerships, paperwork, or house repairs,” Susan continued.
Patricia stiffened. “You’ve been keeping score.”
“No,” Susan said. “That’s the problem. Nobody was.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“When I stayed here, I spent almost two full days figuring out bills, passwords, appointments, and Dad’s prescriptions.”
Richard frowned. “My prescriptions are not complicated.”
Rebecca looked at him. “Dad, you had blood-pressure pills inside a Tylenol bottle.”
“The bottle was easier to open.”
“Thank you for proving my point.”
Even Richard smiled.
Patricia didn’t.
“So now I’m the villain because I trusted my own son?”
Mark shook his head.
“Trusting me and assigning me are different things.”
“I never assigned you anything.”
“You texted appointment times.”
