When I Moved Into My First House, I Came Home One Night To Find My Parents Sitting In The Living Room. When I Asked Why, My Mom Smiled And Said: “We’ll Treat It Like A Family Place Now.” I Didn’t Argue.

Kevin’s tone stayed calm. “Family has no bearing on ownership.

You’re all listed as non-registered occupants. You have until Monday, 10:00 a.m. to vacate.”

Dad’s voice cracked.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Actually,” I said, “I already did.”

Natalie threw her hands up. “This is insane. You think you’re some kind of genius because you learned legal jargon?”

I smiled.

“No, Natalie. I think I’m someone who finally learned leverage.”

Kevin closed his folder. “You’ll receive a copy of the notice by certified mail.

Consider this your verbal acknowledgement.”

Mom took a step toward me, tears threatening. “Carrie, please be reasonable.”

I looked at her, then pointed to the paper on the fridge. “That’s my reason.

Monday at 10:00. No exceptions.”

“You wouldn’t really lock us out,” she whispered. “Not me,” I said.

“The trust.”

Dad glared. “So what? You’re hiding behind a piece of paper now?”

“No,” I said quietly.

“I’m standing behind one.”

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