“Get your hands off me, young lady. I have no idea who you think you are, but I don’t want you touching me.”

“It’s okay, Marion. I’m a friend here to help you.”

Paul watched as Hope tried to put the shoes Marion had taken off back on her feet. “I’ve got to go,” he told the man who’d called him. “Alex is in charge this week. Check in with him.” He stashed the phone in his pocket and walked around the truck to help Hope. Just as he reached her, Marion hauled off and slapped Hope in the face.

She fell back, and Paul caught her. “Oh my God. Are you okay?”

“I, um, yeah, I’m fine.” A bright red welt appeared on her flawless cheek, and Paul wanted to rage against his mother and the hideous illness that had turned her into someone he didn’t recognize.

“Mom! Apologize to Hope.”

“I will not apologize. I told her not to touch me.”

“She was trying to help you.”

“I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Paul wanted to scream from the frustration and anguish that overtook him. More than anything, he wanted to stop everything so he could comfort Hope and ensure she was really okay, but he couldn’t do that until they had his mother safely delivered.

“Let’s go, Mom,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

She seemed to sense he was at the end of his patience, so she got out of the car and let him escort her inside. Two nurses from the memory care clinic that would be overseeing the testing met them. All the pre-admission paperwork had been done in advance, so there was nothing left for them to do but say their good-byes.

“Wait,” Marion said when Paul kissed her. “Where’re you going?”

“The doctors are going to help you, Mom. I’ll be right here to pick you up when you’re ready.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Martinez,” one of the nurses said kindly. “We’ll take very good care of you.”

“I want George. Where’s my husband? He’d never leave me with strangers. Where’s George?”

She screamed for her husband until she was out of earshot, leaving Paul emotionally spent by the ordeal.

Hope’s hand on his back jarred him out of his troubled thoughts.

He looked over at her and noticed the mark on her face was still red and beginning to swell. “Excuse me,” he said to one of the nurses. “My mother hit my friend. Is it possible to get her an ice pack?”

“I’m fine, Paul,” Hope said.

“Of course,” the nurse said. “I’ll grab one for you.”