PART 3 — THE HEARING SHE THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER REACH
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not because I was afraid of Lauren.
Because I was finally beginning to understand her.
For years, I had mistaken control for concern.
When she took my bank cards, she said she was helping.
When she answered my phone, she said she was protecting my rest.
When she stopped friends from visiting, she said too much company exhausted me.
When she moved important documents from my desk, she said older people misplaced things.
Every little act had sounded reasonable on its own.
Put them together, and they formed a cage.
And tomorrow morning, Lauren intended to put a judge’s signature on the lock.
Robert sat with me at the kitchen table long after the last birthday guest had gone home.
The cake remained half-cut on the counter.
Flowers filled every available vase.
My green birthday suit was wrinkled now, and my lipstick had faded, but I refused to change.
I wanted to remember exactly what I had been wearing when my daughter tried to erase me.
Detective Ruiz returned shortly after ten that night.
They had not found Lauren.
She had abandoned her car three blocks away and disappeared.
Her phone was turned off.
Her boyfriend, Dr. Nathan Bell, was not answering calls either.
That did not surprise Robert.
“What surprises me,” he said, spreading documents across my table, “is how far they were willing to go.”
He pointed to the guardianship petition.
Attached were three separate statements claiming my mental condition had deteriorated rapidly.
One came from Lauren.
One came from Dr. Bell.
The third came from someone named Denise Carter.
I stared at the name.
“I don’t know a Denise Carter.”
Robert tapped the statement.
“She identifies herself as your home caregiver.”
“I have never had a home caregiver.”
Detective Ruiz leaned forward.
“She claims she has worked in your house four days a week for nearly eight months.”
I laughed once.
It wasn’t amusement.
It was disbelief.
“Then she’s exceptionally quiet, because I’ve never seen her.”
Ruiz looked at Robert.
“That gives us another possible false statement.”
Robert shook his head.
“Possible isn’t enough for tomorrow.”
That word stopped me.
Tomorrow.
Criminal investigations take time.
Courts move on schedules.
Lauren knew that.
She had timed everything carefully.
The forged house sale.
The false medical report.
The guardianship hearing.
My isolation.
My reputation slowly being damaged among friends.
Even canceling my birthday party now made sense.
If fifty people had seen me laughing, speaking clearly, remembering names, managing guests, and behaving entirely like myself the day before a hearing claiming I was incompetent, Lauren’s story would have collapsed.
So she had tried to send everyone away.
Then lock me upstairs.
“Can the hearing be canceled?” I asked.
Robert shook his head.
“We can request dismissal, but I don’t want to rely on that.”
“Why?”
“Because Lauren filed for emergency temporary guardianship.”
I understood business law.
Guardianship law was different.
“Explain.”
He folded his hands.
“She claims you’re in immediate danger because you cannot manage money, forget medication, leave appliances running, wander outside alone, and are vulnerable to financial exploitation.”
I stared at him.
“The financial exploitation is coming from her.”
“I know.”
“But does the judge?”
“Tomorrow, we make sure the judge does.”
I leaned back.
“Then we go.”
Robert hesitated.
“Adelaide, I need you prepared for something.”
“What?”
“Lauren may appear.”
I smiled.
“I hope she does.”
The next morning, I woke at five-thirty.
I made my own coffee.
I showered.
Then I opened my closet and chose a navy-blue dress, pearl earrings, low heels, and the silver-handled cane.
I considered wearing the green birthday suit again.
No.
That belonged to yesterday’s battle.
This one required different armor.
At seven-fifteen, a black car pulled into my driveway.
Robert stepped out first.
Maria Ramirez stepped out behind him.
Then Mr. Gregory.
I opened the door.
“What are you two doing here?”
Maria lifted her chin.
“You think we’re letting you walk into court alone?”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“No,” she said. “We don’t.”
Then she smiled.
“We want to.”
Mr. Gregory held up a thick folder.
“I brought thirty-two signed statements from people who saw you yesterday.”
I stared at him.
“Thirty-two?”
“Actually thirty-four. Two arrived this morning.”
My throat tightened.
Maria squeezed my hand.
Lauren had spent years telling me nobody cared.
She had needed only a few years to build that lie.
It took one birthday to destroy it.
We arrived at the courthouse forty minutes early.
The hallway outside the courtroom smelled like old paper, coffee, and floor polish.
People sat on wooden benches speaking in hushed voices.
Robert checked us in.
Then he suddenly stopped.
I followed his gaze.
Lauren was standing at the far end of the hallway.
She wore a beige suit and dark glasses.
Beside her stood Dr. Nathan Bell.
Lauren removed the glasses.
For a moment, we simply looked at each other.
My daughter.
My only daughter.
The child I had carried.
The girl whose college tuition I had paid.
The woman who had forged my name.
She walked toward me.
Maria immediately stepped between us.
I touched Maria’s arm.
“It’s all right.”
Lauren stopped six feet away.
“Mom.”
I said nothing.
“You’ve made this much bigger than it needed to be.”
That almost impressed me.
Not hello.
Not I’m sorry.
Not I panicked.
Not I made a terrible mistake.
You made this bigger.
I looked at Nathan.
He couldn’t meet my eyes.
Then I turned back to her.
“You filed paperwork saying I have dementia.”
“You do have problems.”
“Name one.”
“You forget things.”
“So do you.”
“Mom.”
“What did you eat for lunch eleven days ago?”
She stared at me.
“I don’t remember.”
“Should I ask a judge to take away your bank accounts?”
Her jaw clenched.
“You know that’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re eighty.”
There it was.
I nodded slowly.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saying it clearly.”
Lauren looked confused.
Robert, however, smiled.
Because he had heard it too.
Age.
Not incapacity.
Lauren lowered her voice.
“You don’t understand what I’m trying to do.”
“Then explain.”
“I was trying to make sure everything was handled before something happened to you.”
“By selling my house?”
“It is too large.”
“By stealing from my account?”
“I paid myself for taking care of you.”
“By forging my signature?”
Her face hardened.
“I did what was necessary.”
Maria gasped.
Robert immediately said, “Adelaide, don’t respond.”
He had already taken out his phone.
Lauren noticed.
“Are you recording me?”
Robert smiled politely.
“The courthouse hallway has security cameras and audio monitoring.”
Lauren went pale.
I almost admired the efficiency of karma.
Then Nathan grabbed her arm.
“Stop talking.”
She jerked away.
“This is your fault too.”
His eyes widened.
Robert’s gaze sharpened.
Nathan whispered, “Lauren.”
“You said the report would be enough.”
That sentence landed like a stone.
Nathan closed his eyes.
Lauren realized too late what she had said.
The courtroom doors opened.
A clerk called our case.
Robert leaned toward me.
“Don’t say another word out here.”
I nodded.
As we entered, I could feel Lauren staring at the back of my head.
The courtroom was smaller than I expected.
The judge was a woman perhaps fifteen years younger than me, with steel-gray hair and eyes that seemed designed to make lies uncomfortable.
“Good morning,” she said.
Everyone stood.
We sat.
The clerk introduced the matter.
Petition for emergency guardianship of Adelaide Morgan.
Petitioner: Lauren Morgan.
Proposed ward: Adelaide Morgan.
Proposed temporary guardian: Lauren Morgan.
Hearing those words made my stomach turn.
Proposed ward.
A legal phrase.
Two words capable of shrinking an entire human life.
Lauren’s attorney stood first.
He was a thin man named Mr. Harris.
He spoke gently.
Too gently.
He described Lauren as a devoted daughter forced to make an “agonizing decision” because her elderly mother had experienced severe cognitive decline.
He described me wandering.
Forgetting medication.
Losing money.
Becoming suspicious of loved ones.
Falling victim to paranoia.
Then he said something remarkable.
“Mrs. Morgan’s hostility toward her daughter may itself be evidence of her declining condition.”
I leaned toward Robert.
“So disagreeing with Lauren is now a disease?”
Robert whispered, “Please don’t make me laugh.”
Mr. Harris continued.
He submitted Dr. Bell’s report.
The judge read several pages.
Then she looked at me.
“Mrs. Morgan?”
“Yes, Your Honor?”
“How are you feeling today?”
“Annoyed.”
The judge paused.
Then the corner of her mouth twitched.
“I appreciate the specificity.”
A few people behind me quietly laughed.
She continued.
“Do you understand why you’re here?”
“Yes. My daughter wants legal authority over my finances, property, medical decisions, and possibly my residence because she claims I’m mentally incompetent.”
“Do you believe you are mentally incompetent?”
“No.”
“Do you have memory problems?”
“I occasionally walk into the pantry and forget why I’m there.”
The judge nodded.
“So do I.”
This time even Robert laughed.
Mr. Harris looked irritated.
The judge turned toward him.
“Counsel, emergency guardianship is an extraordinary remedy. I will need more than generalized concerns related to age.”
He stood.
“We have medical evidence.”
The judge turned toward Nathan.
“Dr. Bell, please take the stand.”
Nathan swore to tell the truth.
Then Mr. Harris began questioning him.
Nathan testified that he had examined me three times.
He claimed I had severe short-term memory loss.
He claimed I failed basic cognitive questions.
He claimed I repeatedly confused dates and names.
He claimed I was unable to explain my assets.
I listened quietly.
Then Robert stood.
“Dr. Bell, when was the first time you examined Mrs. Morgan?”
Nathan gave a date.
Robert nodded.
“June seventeenth?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At her home.”
“What time?”
“Around two in the afternoon.”
Robert looked at me.
Then back at Nathan.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Robert lifted a document.
“Mrs. Morgan was in Chicago on June seventeenth.”
Nathan froze.
Robert handed the document to the clerk.
“Airline records and hotel receipts.”
Mr. Harris stood.
“Objection.”
The judge looked at him.
“To a plane ticket?”
Mr. Harris sat down.
Robert continued.
“Perhaps you’re mistaken about the date.”
Nathan swallowed.
“It’s possible.”
“Second examination?”
Nathan named another date.
“July ninth.”
“Yes.”
“At Mrs. Morgan’s home?”
“Yes.”
Robert lifted another document.
“Interesting.”
He handed it forward.
“That afternoon Mrs. Morgan attended a board meeting at Morgan Hospitality Foundation from noon until four-thirty. Twenty-one people signed the minutes.”
Nathan shifted in his seat.
“It may have been another day.”
“Third examination?”
Nathan paused.
He looked at Lauren.
The judge noticed.
“Doctor,” she said, “please answer counsel.”
He gave another date.
Robert didn’t even look at his notes.
“That date Mrs. Morgan was receiving dental surgery.”
Someone behind me whispered, “Oh my God.”
Nathan’s face had turned gray.
Robert stepped closer.
“Doctor, have you ever medically examined Adelaide Morgan?”
Silence.
“Doctor?”
Nathan looked toward Lauren again.
That was enough.
The judge leaned forward.
“Dr. Bell, I strongly recommend you think carefully before answering.”
Nathan’s shoulders dropped.
“No.”
The word was barely audible.
The courtroom exploded into whispers.
The judge struck her gavel.
“Order.”
Robert waited.
Then asked, “Who asked you to prepare the report?”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“Lauren.”
My daughter whispered something to her lawyer.
Her lawyer moved away from her.
That told me he had not known.
Robert continued.
“Did Lauren provide the symptoms you included?”
“Yes.”
“Did she provide answers for the cognitive examination?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever speak with Mrs. Morgan before producing your diagnosis?”
“No.”
I had believed I was prepared.
I wasn’t.
Hearing it admitted under oath was different.
A stranger lying about me would have made me angry.
My daughter constructing a fictional version of my mind so she could legally take my life away made something inside me go quiet.
The judge asked Nathan, “Why?”
He looked miserable.
“Lauren said Adelaide was stubborn. She said she needed control before Adelaide destroyed the estate.”
“Destroyed it how?”
“She said Adelaide planned to change her will.”
Every head turned toward me.
Lauren lowered her eyes.
There it was.
The center of everything.
Not concern.
Inheritance.
The judge called a recess.
Lauren stood immediately.
Her attorney pulled her into the hallway.
Robert turned to me.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
I wasn’t.
But there are moments when being all right is irrelevant.
You simply keep standing.
Maria hugged me.
“She deserves prison.”
I whispered, “She’s still my daughter.”
Maria stepped back.
“And you’re still her mother. Apparently she forgot that first.”
Before I could answer, Detective Ruiz entered the courtroom.
She approached Robert and whispered something.
His expression changed.
“What?”
I asked.
He looked toward Lauren through the doorway.
“They searched Dr. Bell’s office this morning.”
My heart started pounding.
“And?”
“They found copies of your financial records.”
“How?”
“Apparently Lauren supplied them.”
Robert paused.
“They also found several unsigned medical forms prepared under your name.”
“What forms?”
“Admission paperwork.”
“For what?”
He hesitated.
“A memory care facility.”
I stared at him.
“She already chose one?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Two hundred miles away.”
That hit harder than everything else.
Two hundred miles.
Far from Maria.
Far from Gregory.
Far from my business.
Far from everyone who might question why I had vanished.
I looked through the courtroom doors at my daughter.
She had planned to remove me physically.
Not just financially.
If the guardianship had been granted, she could have moved me.
Sold the house.
Controlled my phone.
Restricted visitors.
And by the time anyone realized what had happened, Lauren could have explained everything by saying:
Mom is confused.
The judge returned.
Everyone stood.
She sat.
“Before we continue,” she said, “I understand law enforcement has information relevant to this petition.”
Detective Ruiz testified briefly.
She described the forged property documents.
The bank investigation.
The medical forms.
Then she mentioned something I had not heard before.
“Officers also recovered a notebook from Dr. Bell’s office.”
Lauren’s face changed.
Nathan stared at the floor.
“What notebook?” the judge asked.
Ruiz opened an evidence envelope.
“A planning notebook apparently maintained by Ms. Morgan.”
My blood went cold.
She began reading headings.
“Phase One: Reduce outside contact.”
Lauren stopped breathing.
“Phase Two: Establish cognitive decline.”
Maria covered her mouth.
“Phase Three: Medical documentation.”
Robert stared at Lauren.
“Phase Four: Emergency guardianship.”
The judge’s expression hardened.
Ruiz turned a page.
“And Phase Five.”
Silence.
“What does Phase Five say?” the judge asked.
Detective Ruiz looked directly at me before answering.
“Liquidation.”
I felt as though the room had tilted.
Underneath that heading were handwritten notes.
Sell house.
Close catering-related accounts.
Transfer investment funds.
Move Adelaide before appeal.
Lauren stood.
“This is being taken out of context!”
Her attorney grabbed her wrist.
“Sit down.”
“No!”
The judge’s voice became sharp.
“Ms. Morgan, sit down.”
Lauren ignored her.
She pointed at me.
“You don’t understand what she’s done to me!”
I stared at her.
“What have I done to you?”
“You controlled everything!”
The courtroom went silent.
“My whole life was about your business! Adelaide this, Adelaide that! Everybody respected you! Everybody needed you! Do you know what it’s like being your daughter?”
I could barely recognize her.
“I gave you everything I could.”
“No. You gave me what you wanted me to have.”
“I paid for your education.”
“I didn’t want that degree!”
“I bought you your first apartment.”
“You reminded me of it every year!”
“I helped you after your divorce.”
“You made me feel like a failure!”
I stared at her.
“And this was your solution?”
Tears filled her eyes.
But they weren’t the tears of someone sorry.
They were the tears of someone whose plan had failed.
“You were going to change the will.”
“Yes.”
Her face twisted.
“I knew it.”
The judge looked at me.
“Mrs. Morgan, had you changed your will?”
“Yes.”
Lauren laughed bitterly.
“There! Ask her who gets everything now.”
Robert whispered, “Adelaide, you don’t have to answer.”
“I know.”
But I wanted to.
I looked at Lauren.
“You were removed as sole beneficiary eighteen months ago.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You left it to Maria?”
“No.”
“The foundation?”
“Partly.”
“Then who?”
I folded my hands.
“My estate is divided among several charitable organizations, longtime employees, educational scholarships, and you.”
Lauren stared at me.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
Her anger flickered into confusion.
“You were still included.”
“How much?”
Robert looked horrified at the question.
I almost laughed.
Even now.
“How much?”
I repeated.
Lauren said nothing.
“That’s what you want to know?”
She looked away.
I answered anyway.
“Enough that you would never have needed to work again.”
Her face emptied.
“And now?” she whispered.
I looked at her for a long time.
“The current version was signed three months ago.”
Her breathing changed.
“You removed me.”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
She whispered, “Why?”
I thought of my missing money.
The intercepted calls.
The lies.
The open closet.
The way she had begun speaking about my house as though it were already hers.
“I didn’t know everything,” I said. “But I knew enough.”
Lauren sank into her chair.
For the first time, she looked truly defeated.
The judge took a long breath.
“This court finds no evidence whatsoever that Mrs. Adelaide Morgan presently lacks capacity.”
My chest loosened.
“The emergency guardianship petition is denied.”
Maria grabbed my hand.
“Furthermore, given the evidence of fraud presented today, this matter will be referred for appropriate criminal investigation, and I am ordering that no petitioner or associated individual have access to Mrs. Morgan’s finances, property, medical records, or residence without her express authorization.”
The gavel fell.
It should have felt like victory.
Instead, I felt tired.
Lauren remained seated while everyone began moving.
I stood.
She looked up at me.
“Mom.”
I stopped.
“Please.”
One word.
A word she had not used while locking my door.
A word she had not used while forging my signature.
A word she had not used while trying to have me declared incompetent.
Please.
“What do you want, Lauren?”
She stood slowly.
“Don’t let them arrest me.”
I stared at her.
“Did you ever plan to stop them from locking me inside a memory care facility?”
Her face crumpled.
“I wasn’t going to leave you there forever.”
Forever.
I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You were going to put me there at all.”
“I would have visited.”
Maria turned away in disgust.
I stepped closer to my daughter.
“Do you know what hurts most?”
Lauren cried silently.
“Not the money.”
I shook my head.
“Not the house.”
Another shake.
“Not even the forged medical report.”
She looked at me.
“You spent years convincing me that nobody wanted me.”
Her expression changed.
“And yesterday fifty people showed up.”
I swallowed.
“You needed me to believe I was alone because lonely people are easier to control.”
She whispered, “Mom…”
“I would have given you almost anything.”
I touched my chest.
“You decided it was easier to take everything.”
Detective Ruiz approached.
“Lauren Morgan?”
Lauren looked at me one final time.
Then Ruiz told her she was being detained for questioning regarding suspected fraud, forgery, and financial exploitation.
Lauren didn’t resist.
As she was escorted toward the door, she suddenly turned.
“Mom!”
I looked at her.
“You’re going to regret this!”
The hallway fell silent.
I saw Robert close his eyes.
Even then, she couldn’t stop.
She couldn’t say I’m sorry.
She couldn’t say I love you.
She gave me a threat.
I answered quietly.
“No, Lauren.”
She stopped.
“For the first time in years, I’m going to regret nothing.”
They took her away.
But the story did not end at the courthouse.
Three days later, Robert called me.
His voice was unusual.
“Adelaide, are you sitting down?”
“I dislike questions that begin that way.”
“Please.”
I sat at my kitchen table.
“What happened?”
“The police completed a deeper review of the bank records.”
“I assume Lauren took more money.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“That’s not the biggest problem.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What is?”
“They traced one payment from your account to a private investigator.”
“A private investigator?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Lauren hire one?”
Robert was silent.
“Robert?”
“The investigator wasn’t watching you.”
I felt cold.
“Then who?”
“Your son.”
My breath stopped.
My son, Daniel.
Lauren’s older brother.
The child I hadn’t seen in almost nine years.
The child who had cut contact after an argument that never made sense.
The child Lauren had told me wanted nothing to do with me.
“What about Daniel?”
Robert continued carefully.
“The investigator was hired to locate him.”
“When?”
“Nearly two years ago.”
I stood.
“Did she find him?”
“Yes.”
My heart began pounding.
“Where is he?”
“Adelaide…”
“Where is my son?”
Robert took a breath.
“He lives forty minutes from you.”
I had to grip the table.
Forty minutes.
For nine years, Lauren had told me Daniel had moved overseas.
That he didn’t want contact.
That he returned my letters.
That he had told her never to give me his phone number.
Nine years.
Forty minutes.
“Why did Lauren hire someone to find him?”
Robert said something that made the whole room disappear.
“Because Daniel apparently tried to contact you two years ago.”
I couldn’t speak.
“She intercepted the messages.”
My knees weakened.
“He wanted to see me?”
“Yes.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“What happened?”
“According to the investigator’s report, Lauren met Daniel without telling you.”
“What did she tell him?”
Robert hesitated.
Then answered.
“She told him you had advanced dementia.”
I covered my mouth.
“She told him you no longer recognized his name.”
The tears came.
“She told him seeing him would distress you.”
I could barely breathe.
“And Daniel believed her?”
“For a while.”
“For a while?”
“There is one more thing.”
I wiped my face.
“What?”
“Daniel stopped believing her six months ago.”
I froze.
“Why?”
“Because someone contacted him.”
“Who?”
Robert said a name I never expected to hear.
“Dr. Nathan Bell.”
My heart stopped.
Lauren’s own boyfriend.
“Why would Nathan contact Daniel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is Daniel now?”
Robert exhaled slowly.
“At the police station.”
“What?”
“He came voluntarily this morning.”
“Why?”
“Because he has something investigators want to see.”
My voice dropped.
“What does he have?”
Robert went quiet.
Then he said:
“Recordings.”
I stared at the kitchen wall.
“Recordings of what?”
“Conversations with Lauren.”
“How many?”
“More than twenty.”
I closed my eyes.
Robert continued.
“And Adelaide… one of those recordings was made only four days ago.”
Four days.
Before my birthday.
Before the forged house sale was exposed.
Before Lauren locked me in my room.
“What does she say on it?”
Robert hesitated.
“She talks about what she planned to do after receiving guardianship.”
“I already know. Sell my house and move me.”
“No.”
His voice became very quiet.
“That’s why Daniel went to the police.”
My pulse began hammering.
“What did Lauren say?”
Robert did not answer immediately.
When he finally spoke, every hair on my arms stood up.
“She told Daniel that once you were placed in the facility, nobody would be able to speak with you without her permission.”
“I know that.”
“Then she said something else.”
“What?”
Robert took a breath.
“She said, ‘After six months, it won’t matter anymore.’”
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“What was that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t know.”
But something in Robert’s voice told me he had an idea.
And suddenly I remembered the unused medical forms in Nathan’s office.
The private facility.
The false diagnosis.
The effort to isolate me.
And I realized the guardianship hearing might not have been the most dangerous part of Lauren’s plan.
It might have only been the doorway.
Robert spoke again.
“Adelaide, Daniel wants to see you.”
My heart broke open.
“Where?”
“At my office.”
“When?”
“He’s already here.”
I couldn’t move.
Nine years.
Nine years of believing my son hated me.
Nine years of birthdays without him.
Nine Christmases staring at an empty chair.
Nine years of Lauren telling me:
He doesn’t want you.
And now my son was sitting forty minutes away.
Waiting.
But before I could answer, Robert added:
“There is something you need to know before you come.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Daniel didn’t come alone.”
“Who is with him?”
Robert was silent for three seconds.
Then he said:
“Your granddaughter.”
I stopped breathing.
“My what?”
“Daniel has a daughter.”
The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
“How old?”
“Eight.”
Eight years old.
I had a granddaughter for eight years.
And I had never even known she existed.
I sank slowly into the chair.
“What is her name?”
Robert’s voice softened.
“Adelaide.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
Daniel had named his daughter after me.
The son who supposedly hated me.
The son who supposedly wanted me erased from his life.
Had given his child my name.
And in that moment I finally understood the true size of what Lauren had stolen from me.
It wasn’t money.
It wasn’t property.
It wasn’t even freedom.
She had stolen years.
Years I could never buy back.
But what I didn’t know yet was that eight-year-old Adelaide Morgan was carrying something in her little backpack.
Something her father had kept hidden for almost a decade.
Something that would reveal why Daniel disappeared from my life in the first place.
And when I finally saw it, I would discover that Lauren’s betrayal had started much earlier than anyone imagined………….
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4…
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