My Daughter-in-Law Is Trying to Teach Me Lessons? In My Own House That I Paid For? I Told My Son.

Tomorrow I would start shielding my house, protecting my assets. And then the hardest part would come.

I would have to show my son the truth about his wife, and I prayed he would believe me before it was too late. The next three days were a race against time.

Benjamin and I worked non-stop. We went to the notary; we made the will.

We put the house in a trust that only I could modify. We opened a new bank account where I transferred my savings.

We changed the locks on my house. We made copies of all the important documents and kept them in a safety deposit box at the bank.

Every step we took made me feel safer, more protected, but also more aware of how close I had been to danger. If Benjamin had not appeared, if he had not warned me, I probably would have already signed something.

I probably would have already let Victoria and Lucas move in, and then it would have been too late. Lucas called me twice during those days.

He wanted to know if I had thought about his proposal, if I was ready to let them move in with me. Every time I told him the same thing.

“I am still thinking. I need time.”

He did not like it; I could hear the frustration in his voice. And behind that frustration, I could hear Victoria.

Surely she was pressuring him. Surely she was telling him that I was difficult, that I was stubborn, that I was selfish for not wanting help.

But I no longer felt guilty. I no longer felt bad for setting boundaries because now I knew the truth, and the truth had freed me from guilt.

On the fourth day, Benjamin arrived at my house with more news.

“I found someone who wants to talk to you.”

“Who?”

“Arthur Gales’s son. The man who died in the nursing home. Victoria’s first husband that we could document.”

I felt a shiver. That man, the one in the photo, the one who had died alone.

“He wants to talk to me? Why?”

“Because when I told him your situation, he identified with it. He said, ‘What is happening to you is exactly what happened to his father,’ and he wants to help you. He wants you not to end up how his dad ended up.”

“When can I see him?”

“Today, if you are ready. He is waiting at a coffee shop near here.”

“I am ready.”

We went in Benjamin’s car. The coffee shop was 20 minutes away.

It was a quiet place, not crowded, perfect for a private conversation. Arthur Gales’s son was sitting at a back table.

He was a man of about 40, dark hair with some gray, sad eyes. When he saw us arrive, he stood up.

“Mrs. Miller?”

“Yes. Nice to meet you.”

We sat down, the three of us. We ordered coffee.

He took a deep breath before starting to speak.

“My name is Ryan Gails. My father was Arthur Gails. He died three years ago, alone in a nursing home where I did not even know he was.”

“I am so sorry.”

He shook his head.

“Do not be sorry for me; be sorry for him because he died without understanding what had happened to him, without understanding how he had ended up there.”

Ryan took out his phone. He showed me a photo.

It was his father, the same man from the photo Benjamin had shown me, but older, more frail.

“My dad was a widower. My mom had died two years earlier. He was alone, sad. Then he met Victoria at a supermarket.”

“She was very kind to him, very affectionate. They started dating. Three months later, they got married.”

“So fast?”

“Yes. I told him to wait, to get to know her better, but he was in love. Or so he thought.”

“Victoria made him feel young again, made him feel alive.”

It sounded familiar to me, too familiar. Except in my case, the victim was not me directly; it was my son.

She had made him fall in love to get to me.

“What happened next?”

Ryan took a sip of his coffee; his hands were shaking.

“The first few months were good, or so it seemed. Victoria moved in with him into his house, the house where I grew up, where my mom had lived.”

“She started changing things, redecorating, throwing away things that, according to her, were no longer useful.”

“My dad told me he was happy, that Victoria took very good care of him, but then things changed.”

Ryan ran his hands over his face.

“Victoria started distancing my dad from the family, from me, from my sisters.”

“There were always excuses: that he was tired, that he did not feel well, that he needed to rest. The visits became less frequent, then almost non-existent.”

Like Lucas with me, I thought. The same pattern.

“And then, out of nowhere, Victoria called us. She told us my dad had been diagnosed with dementia, that a doctor had said he could no longer take care of himself.”

“That she had had to take control of his finances because he could no longer handle his money.”

“Was it true? Did he have dementia?”

Ryan shook his head furiously.

“I do not know. We never saw the diagnosis. Victoria never let us talk to the doctor. She never let us see my dad in private.”

“She was always there, controlling everything. And when we finally managed to see my dad alone, he was confused, scared.”

“He told us Victoria was giving him pills, lots of pills, that he felt weird, that he did not know what was happening.”

“My God!”

“We tried to do something. We hired a lawyer, but by that time Victoria had made all the legal moves.”

“She had power of attorney, she had control of the accounts, she had everything. And the doctor who had helped her backed her story.”

“Was the doctor bought?”

“We could not prove it, but yes, we believe so.”

“And the house?”

“She sold it. Six months after marrying my dad, she sold it for $200,000. She kept all the money and she put my dad in the cheapest nursing home she found.”

“$300 a month in a horrible place, dirty, without proper care.”

Tears started falling down my face; I could not help it. The story was heartbreaking.

“And you could not get him out of there?”

“We tried. We went with lawyers, we went to court, but Victoria had all the papers. She had legal guardianship and my dad was already so deteriorated he could not testify. He could not defend himself.”

Ryan wiped his eyes.

“He died a year later, alone in that horrible place. The last time I saw him, he did not recognize me. The pills had destroyed him, or the loneliness, or both. I will never know.”

“I am so sorry, Ryan.”

He stared me straight in the eyes.

“That is why I am here, Mrs. Miller. Because when Benjamin told me your story, I knew I had to warn you.”

“Victoria is going to do the same to you. She is going to make you seem incompetent. She is going to find a doctor to back her.”

“She is going to take control of your house and when you are no longer useful to her, she is going to leave you somewhere far from your family and she is going to keep everything.”

“I am not going to let that happen.”

“Good, because I am going to help you. I am going to testify. I am going to tell what happened to my dad and if necessary, I am going to go with you to confront your son.”

“He needs to know who he married.”

Benjamin intervened.

“We have a plan. We are going to gather everyone: Patricia, Lucas, Victoria, Ryan, me.”

“We are going to put all the evidence on the table. We are going to show Lucas the truth and we are going to give him the chance to walk away from Victoria before it is too late.”