Months earlier, Daniel had mailed me a document—durable power of attorney naming me alternate agent if Amber was “unavailable or unwilling to act in good faith.”
He’d said quietly, “Just in case.”
I found the copy in his desk drawer and drove straight to the bank.
“I need to place a temporary freeze on these joint accounts,” I told the manager, sliding the papers across.
She read them carefully. “Freezing accounts is significant.”
“So is dying alone,” I said.
After verification, she pressed a key.
“Outgoing transfers and card activity are on hold,” she confirmed.
An hour later, Amber called.
“What did you DO?!” she screamed over the sound of wind and music.
“I froze the accounts,” I replied calmly.
“You can’t!”
“Daniel is in ICU. Where are you?”
Silence.
“I needed a break,” she snapped.
“I understand trauma,” I said. “I don’t understand champagne while your husband fights for his life.”
“You’re punishing me!”
“I’m protecting him.”
She threatened lawsuits. I told her to come to the hospital.
She arrived at 1 a.m. in designer clothes with a lawyer trailing behind her.
“I need to know why my mother-in-law is here,” she announced.
I stood slowly. “I showed up.”