“Ma’am,” the second deputy said, stepping between us, “what we understand is the documentation. And the documentation says this is not your property.”
“But we’re family!” Mom cried.
“And she has asked you to leave,” Deputy Hartman said calmly. “Multiple times.”
Dad’s jaw clenched.
“We’re not the bad guys here.”
Deputy Hartman lifted the folder again.
“This is her legal residence. If you enter without permission, it is trespassing. If you attempt to force entry, it becomes breaking and entering.”
The words hit the air like hammer blows.
Owen began crying. Piper clung to Lydia’s leg. Lydia glared at me through her tears.
“How could you do this?” she whispered.
I looked at her, my voice low but steady.
“You don’t get to take my home.”
Mom’s face contorted with rage.
“You will regret this, Mara.”
Deputy Hartman stepped between us, his voice steel.
“Ma’am, I’m going to ask you to gather your belongings and leave the property immediately.”
Dad muttered something under his breath but nodded stiffly. The deputies stood by while Lydia and Mom collected the scattered boxes, while Dad helped the movers load everything back into the truck.