Page 20 of Easton Island

“Her mind has been on a downhill trajectory and is slipping quickly,” Elizabeth said. “I have a call with Nigel Beckworth to figure out the next step and possibly draft a durable power of attorney.”

“Does she understand the seriousness of what’s happening?”

“She does when she’s in her right mind.” Elizabeth took the bills from Brett and set them on the table. “Prissy thinks she’s current on all of these.”

He leaned back in the chair, thoughtfully rubbing the stubble on his chin. “Do you think the staff will be able to keep an eye on her, or is her condition too far advanced where she needs round-the-clock care?”

“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth said. “Prissy doesn’t want to leave Easton Island and move into a memory care facility. I would like to see how it goes with her living here.”

“You’ll need to meet with Mrs. Arnsby and the others to let them know what’s going on.”

“The sooner, the better,” Morgan chimed in.

The trio discussed the timeline, logistics, and steps going forward, all agreeing Prissy was family and they would do whatever they could to keep her at home and cared for.

“I need to get back to Locke Pointe.” Morgan reluctantly stood.

Elizabeth stopped her. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m hosting this evening’s social hour at Locke Pointe.”

“How is Ronni and Jax’s getaway going?”

“I haven’t heard a peep, so I’m guessing they’re enjoying themselves.” Morgan stifled a yawn. “Excuse me. It’s been a long day. Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow at the school?”

“Hopefully,” Elizabeth said.

Morgan tracked down her pup, and they left to drive to the other side of the island. During the trip, she mulled over Prissy’s health crisis. Her mental decline seemed to be accelerating—or maybe it had been getting bad for a while and the woman had done a good job of hiding it from everyone.

She arrived at the Lilac Inn’s shared parking lot and turned the engine off. As soon as she opened the driver’s side door, Chester leapt to the ground and took off at a dead run.

Woof. Woof.

“Chester Charleston Easton!” she hollered. “Get back here!”

The pup, having cornered the pesky squirrel “Rocket” who provoked him every chance he got, sat on the lower tree branch, chattering at Chester and shaking his tail.

Woof. His warning bark increased a decibel. Chester meant business, and Morgan had no doubt if the crafty critter dared to come down, her pup would teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

“Let’s go.”

Chester fired off a warning bark and turned around. He kicked up the dirt with his back paws and trotted toward her, looking back once to utter a parting growl to his nemesis.

“At least you’re getting some exercise, chasing after rowdy Rocket.”

“Morgan!”

Morgan turned to find Grace jogging toward her and waited for her friend to catch up. “Hey, Grace.”

“Have you talked to Greg today?”

“Earlier.” Morgan explained that she’d dropped Tristan off at Easton Estate after school and was just getting back. “Why?”

“He was at my place a short time ago looking for Hailey and seemed agitated.”

Morgan glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “She’s been canceling plans and giving him the cold shoulder.”

“I figured as much. Every time he stops by, she hides. This has been going on for a few days now, sometimes twice a day.”