Chapter 1 - The Property Record
The officer tapped the screen of his rugged tablet and looked up at my mother-in-law.
"Ma'am, you are completely mistaken," the officer said in a flat, authoritative voice.
"This property does not belong to your son."
Marsha stopped crying instantly and dropped her hands to her sides.
"That is impossible," she snapped, losing her fragile victim persona entirely.
"Evan pays the mortgage every single month."
The officer turned the tablet around so Marsha could see the glowing screen.
"There is no mortgage on this property," he explained.
"The house is owned free and clear by the woman standing right in front of you."
I watched the color drain completely out of Marsha's face.
Her confident, smug expression shattered into a million pieces.
"I am the sole owner, and I alone decide who lives under this roof," I told her firmly.
"You have exactly two minutes to pick up my children's clothes from the asphalt before I press charges for vandalism."
Marsha opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out.
She glared at me with a hatred so pure it made the air feel cold.
"You sneaky, manipulative little gold digger," she hissed through clenched teeth.
The officer placed a stern hand on his duty belt.
"I suggest you do what the homeowner asks, or you will be leaving in the back of my cruiser," he warned her.
Marsha snatched her designer purse and stomped toward the pile of clothes on the street.
I knelt down and pulled Maddie and Mason into a tight, comforting hug.
"Nobody is taking our home away," I whispered to my brave twins.
The officer walked over to me and handed me a printed incident report card.
"You have every right to file a restraining order after this," he advised quietly.
I thanked him and watched as Marsha angrily tossed the last of the hoodies onto the grass.
She stormed toward her expensive luxury sedan parked across the street.
Before she opened her car door, she stopped and turned back to face me.
She pulled a folded piece of heavy parchment paper from her coat pocket.
"You might own the building, but you do not own the land it sits on," she yelled across the pavement.
She held the paper up in the morning sun.
"Evan signed a ninety-nine-year commercial ground lease to my development company yesterday."
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My heart slammed against my ribs as I realized she wasn't trying to evict me to live there.
She was trying to evict me so she could demolish my entire home.
