My name is Richard, and I’m 68. My son, Michael, recently did something I can’t forgive. A year ago, he told me he bought me a cottage in the countryside—a peaceful retirement gift. I was hesitant but agreed to move, trusting him. We packed up and drove away from the city, but instead of a cozy cottage, we arrived at a place called “Sunset Haven.” It was a nursing home.

I was shocked. Michael admitted he’d lied and said I needed help—he claimed I was forgetting things. I demanded to go back home, but he told me it was too late—he’d already sold the house. I felt betrayed. He said it was for my own good, but nothing about this felt right.

Days passed at Sunset Haven. The staff were kind, but I couldn’t shake the hurt. Then one day, I overheard two nurses talking. One said a resident had been put there because his son had gambling debts. That resident was me.

An old friend, Jack, a lawyer, found me there by chance and helped me investigate. Turns out, Michael had rushed the home sale and misused his power of attorney. We challenged it in court—and I got my house back.

Michael came to apologize, looking hollow and broken. He admitted he was addicted to gambling and thought what he did was the only way out. He begged me for forgiveness.

Now, I’m torn. He’s still my son, but the betrayal runs deep. Could you trust someone who sold your home behind your back? What would you do?