On their penultimate visit, they didn't raise their voices. It was conspicuous within the 3½ years that Dad had been gone.
On the last visit, they started shouting again.
My brothers staged it. Jeff even acted it out with nobody looking, rolling on the floor like a soccer player.
They sent me to jail, charged with assault.
On the advice of a court-appointed attorney, I pleaded down to harrassment. Then they used my plea as evidence of "extreme violence" - assault. They got me off the family property while Mom was in the hospital.
I left under threat of official eviction during an epic housing shortage. Jeff put a restraining order on me, and filed one for Mom against me, too. In his affadavit he swore that I jumped and kicked him in the chest, then kicked him while he was down. He claimed bruises on his ribs. A judge approved Jeff's but not Mom's (because it wasn't her.) I presume nobody asked him for evidence. But, in the words of an old friend, two people's testimony is evidence.
They had me. They could still hurt me, Mom, the cat.... And they knew how to play the reporting system. They had abused every relevant protective agency without consequence, and they had won. They brought it to the judge, and prevailed.
They emptied the property and sold it. Mom died in one of those under-staffed facilities.