The voice on the other end was too faint to identify.
I increased the volume.
Static hissed through my laptop speakers.
Then the man answered.
“You were supposed to have the incompetency order signed before Marcus came home.”
I stopped breathing.
I knew that voice.
It belonged to my younger brother, Thomas Hale.
Thomas had served as chief financial officer of Hale Medical Technologies for twelve years.
He had managed our mother’s trust after my father died.
He had hugged me at the airport nine months earlier and promised he would visit Mom every weekend.