My sister hesitated. “Is that legal?”

“Oh, don’t be naïve,” my mother snapped. “It’s for her own good. Temporary guardianship, just until things are settled.”

Guardianship? The word rang in my head like a gunshot.

My brother laughed again. “Once it’s done, she won’t be able to touch anything without us. Makes things simpler.”

I felt sick.

My father’s voice turned practical, almost bored. “The doctor is coming tomorrow morning. He owes us a favor. He’ll do the evaluation, sign the paperwork. We just need her tired, confused, emotional.”

There it was. The plan. They weren’t just talking about controlling paperwork. They were talking about controlling me.

My mother sighed, the way she did when she thought she was being reasonable. “Honestly, this is better than letting her mess things up. She’s never been good with money. Or decisions. Or family.”

I stared at the door, my reflection faint in the glass. A woman trusted with lives, with equipment, with classified operations. And behind that door, I was still the family liability.

My brother spoke again, eager now. “Once everything’s under our control, we can sell one of the ranches. Or both.”