I walked out the door and crossed the driveway toward my car while laughter drifted from inside the house. They truly believed I had accepted the situation. Three minutes later I parked in a small gas station lot down the road. My hands trembled slightly as adrenaline rushed through my body.
I pulled out my phone and began making calls.
The first call went to my lawyer. The second went to my property manager who oversaw maintenance for the house. The third call was to someone else whose number I had saved for situations exactly like this.
By the time I finished it was almost sunset. I sat quietly in my car while watching the sky darken over the ocean and wondered briefly whether I was about to destroy my relationship with my sister forever.
Then I remembered Bradley pointing at me like I was garbage in my own home. My doubt disappeared. That night I checked into a hotel about twenty miles away and spread all my paperwork across the bed. Property records. Insurance documents. Utility account information.
Three years earlier when Lauren asked for a spare key in case of emergencies I had agreed without hesitation because I trusted her. That trust had clearly been misplaced.