Chapter 7 - The Court Battle
The eviction hearing was a bloodbath, but a quiet, bureaucratic one.
We sat in the sterile courtroom on a Tuesday morning. Julian didn't show up. Chloe sat at the defendant's table looking like a ghost. Her hair was unwashed, her designer clothes wrinkled.
Her public defender tried to argue that there was a "verbal agreement" that the house was a gift, attempting to establish squatter's rights or a tenant-at-will defense.
David didn't even raise his voice. He simply handed the judge the property deed, the records of the forged $45,000 loan, the receipts for my stolen antique boat, and screenshots of Julian’s contradictory Facebook posts.
The judge, an older woman with sharp eyes, looked over her glasses at Chloe. "Young lady, you are incredibly lucky your mother is currently only pursuing civil eviction and letting the DA handle the criminal fraud separately. You have 72 hours to remove your personal belongings from the premises. If you are not gone by Friday at 5:00 PM, the Sheriff will physically remove you."
"But where will I go?" Chloe cried out, tears streaming down her face. "I have no money!"
"That," the judge said coldly, striking her gavel, "is not this court's problem. Nor is it the property owner's."
As we walked out of the courthouse, Chloe tried to grab my arm. "Mom, please. Let me come to the condo. Let me sleep on your couch."
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I looked at the girl I had raised. I loved her. I would always love her. But the cancer of entitlement had eaten away the daughter I knew. She needed to hit rock bottom to ever have a chance at rebuilding herself.
"No, Chloe," I said, pulling away. "You made your bed. Now you have to lie in it."
