Chapter 4 - TODD WAS BEING PAID TO CARE FOR HIM
The program was legitimate.
That mattered.
Children with serious respiratory conditions sometimes qualified for home support funds through private insurance benefits and a medical trust Evan’s biological father had created before he died.
I knew about the trust.
Not the details.
Evan’s father, Michael Collins, died when Evan was three.
He and Mom had already divorced.
Michael carried substantial life insurance.
Part of it went into a protected medical and education trust for Evan.
Independent trustee.
No parent could simply withdraw cash.
Qualified expenses only.
After Evan’s severe hospitalization six months earlier, the trustee approved supplemental home respiratory support.
Mom could have hired an outside aide.
Todd offered to do it.
He said:
“Why pay a stranger to sit in our house?”
Mom agreed.
Todd’s compensation:
$3,200 per month.
Not enormous.
Enough to matter.
Requirements:
Medication supervision.
Monitor response.
Appointment coordination.
Daily symptom logs.
Emergency escalation.
Todd signed every month certifying he provided those services.
Mom stared at the payment history.
“You told me the trust only reimbursed equipment.”
Todd’s lawyer interrupted.
“My client will not answer further questions informally.”
Good.
Then we obtained the caregiver logs through Mom’s parental access.
Perfect.
Too perfect.
Every controller medication administered.
Every monitor checked.
Every appointment reviewed.
Every inhaler inventory maintained.
Yet I lived there.
I knew the truth.
Todd forgot to pick up prescriptions.
He complained about driving to the clinic.
He once made Evan search the couch for twenty minutes because Todd could not remember where he put the inhaler.
He called medical appointments “babying sessions.”
The logs described another person.
Then Mom found signatures.
Monthly parental verification:
Sarah Collins Mercer.
Her name.
She had signed the first two months.
Not the last four.
“What is this?”
Her electronic signature appeared anyway.
Todd said:
“You told me to handle paperwork.”
Mom looked at him.
“Did you sign for me?”
“You gave me account access.”
“To upload receipts.”
His lawyer stopped him.
Again.
Another borrowed permission.
Then the medical trust itself.
Current value:
$2.7 million.
I stared.
I knew Michael left Evan money.
I did not know how much.
Todd did.
The trust funded medical needs and future education.
At age twenty five, remaining assets could distribute under conditions.
Until then, independent trustee controlled principal.
Todd could not touch it.
But a caregiver could receive approved reimbursement.
And there was another role.
Family Care Coordinator.
Annual fee:
Up to $48,000.
Expanded authority over approved vendor budgets.
Todd had applied.
Two months earlier.
Mom did not know.
Application claimed:
Sarah’s work obligations prevent consistent oversight.
Mia Collins is a volatile minor with documented hostility toward household authority.
Todd Mercer provides primary stable care.
I read the sentence twice.
He had built the application around removing Mom and me from decision making.
Not legally removing.
Downgrading our reliability.
Then an attached statement.
Mia frequently interferes with respiratory treatment and encourages Evan to dramatize symptoms.
My hands started shaking.
Todd had written that about me.
The person digging his inhaler out of trash.
The person who sat awake beside him after attacks.
Then another page.
Sarah Collins Mercer consents to Todd Mercer serving as Family Care Coordinator.
Signature:
Mom’s.
She stared.
May you like
“I never signed this.”
Continue to the next part: Todd secretly applied for a paid position controlling Evan’s medical care budget using Sarah’s signature and a statement portraying Mia as dangerous.
