“Get out,” I said.
Ryan stopped laughing.
Victoria’s mouth fell open. “You cannot throw my son out of his own house.”
I lifted the deed from the folder. “This is not his house.”
Her expression shifted instantly.
Ryan stepped forward, suddenly pale. “Megan, wait.”
But I was done waiting.
I called the police and said, “Two people are trespassing in my home, and one of them just locked me out.”
The silence after that call felt colder than any basement ever could.
Victoria stared at me like I had struck her. Ryan looked down at the papers, then at the deed in my hand, as though the truth itself had betrayed him.
“Megan,” he said quietly, “don’t embarrass us in front of the neighbors.”
I nearly laughed. For years, he had allowed his mother to humiliate me at dinners, birthdays, holidays, every gathering. But now that consequences had arrived at the front door, embarrassment suddenly mattered.
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