My Wife Just Died Of Alzheimer’s. Two Weeks Later, My Daughter Sued Me For $3.2 Million To Pay Off Her Fiancé’s Debts. How Do I Stop This Nightmare?

Joe spoke directly to the camera. “Everything to Clayton. The house, the money, everything. He’s been here every day through all of it,” She declared. Tears were in her eyes.

“Lillian, my daughter… she only calls when she needs something. She doesn’t love me; she loves what I have. Clayton is my heart, my life. He deserves every bit of this. Don’t let Lillian take it,” She pleaded. She turned to June. “You’ll remember? You’ll tell them?” She asked.

“I promise, Mrs. Merrick. I’ll remember,” June answered in the video. The video ended. Complete silence followed, with many people crying.

Judge Ashford removed her glasses and wiped her eyes. I was overwhelmed, hearing Joe’s voice again and her words. Lillian sat motionless, face buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling slightly.

“Mr. Kingsley, were you aware any of this existed?” Judge Ashford’s voice was thick. Kingsley stood, visibly shaken. “No, Your Honor. I wasn’t informed about security footage or lucid moment recordings,” He replied.

He looked at Lillian, the look of a lawyer realizing his client had lied to him. “Your Honor, I have one more witness. She wasn’t on the original witness list, but she contacted me requesting to testify,” Malcolm announced. “To who?” The judge asked. “Dr. Simone Monroe,” Malcolm answered.

Lillian’s head snapped up, eyes wide. I saw fear. Kingsley stood quickly. “Objection! Dr. Monroe testified at the preliminary hearing for the plaintiff!” He argued. The judge raised her hand, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Dr. Simone Monroe stepped through the courtroom doors. She wore a crisp white blouse beneath a dark blazer, carried a leather portfolio, and walked with the measured stride of someone who’d made a difficult decision and intended to see it through. Her eyes found mine briefly as she approached the witness stand, and I saw something I hadn’t expected: regret mixed with determination.

“Please swear in the witness,” Judge Ashford gestured to the bailiff. Monroe raised her right hand, her voice steady as she took the oath. I noticed her fingers weren’t shaking, though they gripped the portfolio tightly enough that her knuckles had gone white.

Malcolm stood, buttoning his jacket. “Dr. Monroe, you testified at the preliminary hearing in this case approximately 7 weeks ago, is that correct?” He asked. “Yes,” She answered.

“And at that hearing, you stated under oath that Josephine Merrick was completely incapacitated during the final 18 months of her life, unable to make legal or financial decisions. Do you stand by that testimony?” He inquired. The courtroom went absolutely silent; even the court reporter’s fingers stilled above the keys.

Monroe’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “No. That testimony was not truthful,” She stated. A murmur rippled through the gallery.

Judge Ashford’s gavel came down once, sharp and decisive. “Order!” She commanded. Kingsley shot to his feet. “Your Honor, I object!” He shouted.

“On what grounds, counselor?” The judge’s tone carried an edge I hadn’t heard before. “This witness is—I wasn’t informed that Dr. Monroe would be recanting her previous testimony! The defense hasn’t had adequate time to—” Kingsley argued. “Mr. Kingsley, sit down,” Judge Ashford ordered.

The judge leaned forward. “Dr. Monroe has been sworn. She will testify. You’ll have your opportunity to cross-examine. Continue, Mr. Blackwell,” She instructed. Malcolm approached the witness stand holding a manila folder.

“Dr. Monroe, why did you provide false testimony at the preliminary hearing?” He asked. She opened her portfolio with deliberate care, removing a stack of documents.

“I was offered $50,000—25,000 before the hearing, 25,000 after—to testify that Mrs. Merik lacked capacity throughout the period in question,” She revealed. “And who made this offer?” Malcolm asked.

“Lillian Merik,” She replied. I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. Lillian’s chair scraped against the floor as she leaned toward Kingsley, whispering urgently.

Malcolm accepted the documents Monroe handed him, holding up the first page for the judge to see. “Your Honor, these are bank statements showing two wire transfers from an account registered to Lillian Merrick to Dr. Monroe’s personal account. March 12th and April 18th, 2024, $25,000 each,” He announced.

Judge Ashford examined the statements through her reading glasses. “Admitted into evidence. Continue,” She said. “Dr. Monroe, can you explain why you agreed to provide false testimony on mine sus?” Malcolm asked.

Her voice remained steady, but I heard the weight behind it. “I’m 52 years old. I’ve been divorced for 3 years. I owe approximately $200,000 in student loans and legal fees from the divorce. I have two children in college. The financial pressure was—” She paused, choosing her words carefully.

“It felt insurmountable. When Ms. Merrick approached me with her offer, I convinced myself that what I was saying wasn’t entirely false, that I was simply emphasizing certain aspects of Mrs. Merik’s condition,” She explained. “But that wasn’t accurate, was it?” Malcolm pressed.

“No,” Monroe replied as she pulled more documents from her portfolio. “These are my original clinical notes from treating Josephine Merik. They show a patient with Alzheimer’s disease, yes, but one who experienced periods of lucidity, sometimes lasting hours, occasionally a full day,” She corrected.

“During these periods, she was oriented to person, place, and time. She could articulate her wishes clearly. She recognized family members and could make reasoned decisions,” She added. Malcolm took the notes, flipping through several pages.

“These notes contradict your testimony at the preliminary hearing completely. And Ms. Merrick instructed you to misrepresent your clinical findings?” He asked. “Yes. She told me the estate was large, approximately $3.2 million, and that she deserved it because her father had—” Monroe stopped, glancing toward Lillian.

“She said he’d never been there for her mother, that he didn’t deserve anything he’d been given,” She continued. I felt Beverly’s hand find mine beneath the table, squeezing gently.

Malcolm returned to his table, exchanging the medical notes for another folder. “Dr. Monroe, did you have any communication with Miss Merrick after the preliminary hearing?” He asked. “Yes, multiple emails and text messages,” She replied.

“And what was the nature of these communications?” Malcolm inquired. Monroe’s professional composure cracked slightly.

“She was concerned about the investigation into Lucien Sinclair. She suggested that if questions arose about my testimony, I should claim I’d been coerced, that Mr. Sinclair had threatened me, not her,” She revealed. “She said she would deny any involvement and that I’d be left to face perjury charges alone. Your Honor, I have those emails and text messages here,” She announced.