I stood up slowly, my hip still aching, but my mind crystal clear. “And if I refuse?”

That’s when Vanessa smiled. Really smiled. “Well, an elderly woman, recent surgery, probably took too many pain medications… got disoriented on the boat.” She shrugged. “Tragic accidents happen all the time.”

I’d raised this man from diapers, and now he was standing there, nodding along while his wife threatened my life. “You’re both insane if you think you’ll get away with this.”

“Actually, Mom, we’ve thought it through pretty carefully,” David said, pulling out a folder. “Your signature here, transferring all assets to us for your own protection, and we all go home happy.”

I looked at the documents, at my son’s expectant face, at Vanessa’s phone, still recording. Then I looked at the ocean, vast and dangerous, and somehow less frightening than the two people who were supposed to love me.

“Go to hell,” I said.

That’s when Vanessa moved behind me and whispered those words about sharks. The push wasn’t violent; they were too smart for that. Just a sudden shove when I was off balance. Over I went, navy dress and all, into the cold Atlantic. As I hit the water, I heard David shouting, “Mom! Oh god, Mom!” But I also heard Vanessa’s voice, lower, talking to someone on the phone. “Yes, we’ll need you to file the emergency petition first thing Monday morning. She’s clearly not competent…”

Then the water closed over my head.