Chapter 4 - The Confrontation
I returned to the house on the third day. This time, I didn't come alone. I arrived with two sheriff’s deputies and Mr. Henderson.
When the door opened, Sheila stood there, her face bright with irritation—until she saw the uniforms behind me.
"What is this?" she demanded. "I told you to leave!"
I stepped past her, my eyes locking onto my father. He looked smaller than ever, a man whose empire of lies was collapsing around his ears. Austin stood by the kitchen island, his face draining of all color as he saw the legal documents in Mr. Henderson’s hand.
"We aren't here for your apologies," I said, walking to the middle of the living room. "We're here because you’ve been living in a house that doesn't belong to you. And you’ve been using money that belongs to me."
"Summer, please," my mother whimpered, her hands trembling. "We were just trying to protect the family!"
"You were trying to protect yourselves," I corrected. I pulled the recording device from the kitchen island, the one they had failed to find during their 'cleaning.' "I have every word, Mother. Every plan to keep me out, every lie you told the bank, and every admission that you knew the house was rightfully mine."
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Austin stumbled back, his back hitting the refrigerator. "Summer, I can explain—"
"Save it for the judge, Austin," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "You let me go to prison for you. You let me sit in a cage while you sat here, in my house, pretending I didn't exist. Now, it's your turn to see what it's like to have the walls close in."
