I came home from the funeral to tell my parents and sister that my husband had left me $8.5m and 6 Manhattan lofts. When I walked into the house, I overheard my parents talking. What they were saying… made my blood run cold.

“I think it would be best for you to have family support in managing your affairs,” he says. “Temporary, of course, just until you’re feeling stronger.”

I read the document, every word. It takes me four minutes. Nobody speaks.

It’s a petition for temporary financial guardianship. If I sign, my sister Khloe Marie Hobbes gains legal authority over all my financial decisions. Bank accounts, property, investments, everything Nathan left me, managed by a 27year-old who can’t hold a job for 6 months.

I set the form down.

“I’d like my own attorney to review this first.”

Patricia’s hand lands on my forearm.

“You don’t need a lawyer, Fay. This is family.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m not signing anything today.”

The room goes cold. Gerald uncrosses his arms. Voss clicks his pen. Patricia’s fingers tighten on my arm just enough that I feel the pressure.

“Sweetheart,” she says, “we’re trying to protect you.”

“Protecting me and controlling me are not the same thing, Mom.”

I stand up, take the form, and walk to my room. Behind me, I hear Patricia’s voice low and hard.

“Fine, we’ll go to court.”