He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone again, tapping the screen with his thumb.

“Who are you calling?” I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He didn’t answer me.

He pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

“Yes, Harold,” my father said into the receiver, his eyes locked onto mine. “It’s Richard. We have a security issue regarding the joint-signature accounts and the associated personal funds of Ava Parker.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“I need a temporary administrative hold placed on all connected assets immediately,” he continued. “Potential elder fraud and unauthorized transfers. Yes, under the audit protocol.”

“You can’t do that,” I said, stepping toward him. “That is my money. I earned it at the clinic.”

He held up a finger, silencing me as he listened to the man on the other end.

“Thank you, Harold,” my father said. “Send the confirmation to my private email.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.