My Daughter Tried To Convince Me I Had Dementia To Steal My House. She Didn’t Know My Late Husband Left Behind A Hidden Camera And A Secret Warning. What Should I Do With The Footage?
Facing the Betrayal
Linda leaned forward.
“First, I’ve already filed an objection to the POA request, along with evidence of their fraud. The judge will throw it out. Second, I think we need to call the police. This is attempted financial exploitation of a vulnerable adult. It’s a felony.”
“She’s my daughter,”
I whispered.
“I know,”
Linda said softly.
“But she’s trying to steal your life, Maggie. Your home, your security, your independence. David knew you’d struggle with this; that’s why he made it so you wouldn’t have to choose. The trust is irrevocable. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t give them access.”
A thought occurred to me.
“They don’t know about the trust yet, do they?”
Linda shook her head.
“The paperwork was filed confidentially. From their perspective, everything is still in your name, accessible if they get POA.”
“Then they’ll be at the house right now,”
I said, standing up.
“Probably looking for financial documents, figuring out exactly what they think they’ll be getting.”
“Maggie, maybe you should stay here. We can call—”
“No,”
I surprised myself with the firmness in my voice.
“I need to face this. I need to look my daughter in the eye and ask her how she could do this to me.”
Linda made some calls while I sat in her office, numb. Within an hour, two police detectives arrived.
Linda showed them the video evidence, the POA filing, the timeline of events. They explained that this constituted elder abuse and financial fraud, both felonies in California.
“We’d like to be present when you confront them,”
Detective Morrison said.
“For your safety and to ensure any admissions are properly documented.”
We drove to my house in separate cars. I’d lived in this house for 38 years.
David and I had bought it when Jennifer was just a baby. We’d painted every room together, planted the garden, built the life we’d dreamed of.
And now, my daughter wanted to take it from me. The front door was unlocked.
A Confrontation at Home
I could hear voices from David’s study, the room where he’d kept all our important papers. My hands clenched into fists.
I walked down the hallway, Linda and the detectives behind me. Through the partially open door, I could see Jennifer and Brad surrounded by file folders and documents, my laptop open on the desk.
“Once we get the POA approved, we can list the house immediately,”
Brad was saying.
“We should be able to close within 60 days, pay off our debts, and still have enough left over to—”
“What?”
I pushed the door fully open. Jennifer jumped, papers scattering from her hands.
“Mom! I didn’t hear you come in. We were just—we were organizing Dad’s old files. You know, helping you sort through everything.”
“Really?”
I stepped into the room.
“Is that why you filed for power of attorney behind my back? Because you wanted to help organize papers?”
Her face went white. Brad stood up slowly, his eyes darting to the door where he spotted the police detectives.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Jennifer said, but her voice was shaking.
“Mom, who are these people? What’s going on?”
“Cut it out, Jennifer,”
My voice was cold and I barely recognized it as my own.
“I’ve seen the footage, all of it. The stove, the medications, the car keys. Every single time you and Brad made me think I was losing my mind.”
“Footage?”
Brad’s face was gray.
“What footage?”
“Your father installed security cameras 6 months before he died,”
I said to Jennifer.
“He knew. He knew what you were planning and he tried to protect me from it.”
Jennifer’s expression crumbled. For a moment, she looked like a child, and my heart wanted to reach for her.
But then, I remembered her voice on that video, so full of fake concern.
“Mom, you left the stove on again. I’m really worried about you.”
“We didn’t have a choice,”
She whispered.
“Brad’s in trouble, real trouble. The people he owes money to, they’re dangerous. We could lose everything.”
“So you decided to take everything from me instead?”
The anger in my chest was a living thing.
“I’m your mother, Jennifer. I changed your diapers. I stayed up all night when you were sick. I worked double shifts at the hospital to pay for your college education. And you repaid me by trying to have me declared incompetent so you could steal my home.”
“It wasn’t like that,”
She said, tears streaming down her face.
“We were going to take care of you. We were going to make sure you had everything you needed in an assisted living facility.”
“That I didn’t need, after you’d sold my house and spent my money,”
I shook my head.
“Don’t insult me by lying now.”
The Price of Treachery
Detective Morrison stepped forward.
“Mr. Morrison, Mrs. Chen, we need you to come with us. We have some questions about attempted financial exploitation and fraud.”
“Wait!”
Jennifer looked at me, panicked.
“Mom, please don’t do this. I’m your daughter. Think about the kids. What’s going to happen to them if their parents are in jail?”
And there it was: the manipulation I’d somehow missed for 2 months, maybe longer. Using my grandchildren as leverage, assuming my love for them would override everything else.
“Your children will be fine,”
I said quietly.
“Your father set up college trusts for them before he died. They’ll have their education paid for no matter what happens. That’s more than you were going to leave me with.”
Linda stepped forward.
