You weren't looking for it. You'd stopped by your parent's home in Marlton to drop off groceries, and everything seemed normal until you opened the medicine cabinet. Two prescription bottles were empty that should have been full. Another was full that should have been empty. Your parent waved it off with a laugh, but something about it stayed with you the rest of the day.
These days every phone call with your parent includes a quiet mental scan: Do they sound confused? Did they eat today? Are they moving around okay? You listen for pauses, contradictions, and the things they don't say.
Maybe it started with a canceled gym membership. Or your parent mentioning they hadn't seen friends in weeks. Or a doctor gently suggesting that isolation and inactivity were doing more harm than the health conditions you were already managing.