Chapter 4 - THE LEGAL BATTLE BEGINS
I walked out of the guest room at six in the morning,
my boots clicking loudly on the hardwood floors.
The kitchen was a disaster zone.
A half-eaten carton of milk sat on the counter,
curdling in the morning warmth.
The broken glass from the night before was scattered across the linoleum,
shining like tiny,
dangerous diamonds.
A sticky pool of orange juice had dried near the trash can.
I did not clean it.
I walked straight past the mess,
out the front door,
and down the street to the bus stop.
My target was the office of Robert Vance,
an attorney who had been Arthur's closest friend and our family lawyer for thirty years.
Robert's office was small,
smelling of old leather and pipe tobacco,
a comforting remnant of a world that still made sense.
He looked up from his desk when I walked in,
his eyes widening in surprise at my disheveled appearance.
"Margaret?"
he asked,
rising from his chair to help me sit.
"What on earth happened?
I thought you were with Helen."
"I came back,"
I said,
my voice steady but hoarse.
"And my house is occupied by squatters."
"My son and his wife."
I told him everything,
from the red nails on my sheets to the whispered threats through the wall.
Robert listened in silence,
his brow furrowing deeper with every word I spoke.
When I finished,
he leaned back in his chair,
rubbing his temples.
"Margaret,
this is bad,"
he sighed,
looking at me with deep concern.
"If Matthew has established residency there,
even if he did it without your permission,
you can't just lock him out."
"The law protects tenants,
even illegal ones,
to prevent landlords from throwing people onto the street."
"But I am not a landlord!"
I cried,
my hand slamming onto his desk.
"It is my home!
I never rented it to them!"
"I know,"
Robert said gently,
"but if he has mail delivered there,
if his ID has that address,
the police will see it as a civil dispute."
"An eviction can take months,
sometimes even a year if they fight it."
He pulled a file from his cabinet,
his face growing even more grim.
"There's something else,
Margaret."
"A few weeks ago,
Matthew came to my office,
asking about the title of the house."
"He wanted to know if he could be added to the deed,
claiming you wanted him to manage your affairs."
"I refused,
of course,
knowing you would have told me yourself."
"But he was desperate,
Margaret,
he mentioned some heavy debts to some very unpleasant people."
I felt the air leave my lungs,
as if I had been punched in the gut.
"He tried to take my house,"
I whispered,
the betrayal cutting deeper than any physical blade.
"Yes,"
Robert said quietly.
"And I fear he hasn't stopped trying."
"We need to check the county registry immediately to see if he's filed any fraudulent paperwork."
May you like
"If he has,
this goes from a civil dispute to a criminal investigation."
