Chapter 3 - The Eviction Notice
The large dining room went dead silent.
You could clearly hear a pin drop on the polished hardwood floor.
Beatrice stared at Mark with wide, deeply questioning eyes.
"What is she talking about, Mark?" she asked nervously.
Mark stammered pathetically, completely caught off guard by the truth.
"She... she's just lying!" he spat out quickly.
"She's just being completely hysterical because she's mad."
I walked confidently over to the antique console table by the grand stairs.
I opened the heavy top drawer.
I pulled out a thick, official-looking manila folder.
I always kept a physical copy of the house deed handy for tax season.
I walked right back and slapped the folder aggressively onto the dining table.
It landed right next to Ellie's plate of half-eaten fried chicken.
"Read it," I challenged him directly.
"Read the actual name printed on the deed, Mark."
He stubbornly refused to look down at the legal paperwork.
His jaw clenched so tight I genuinely thought his teeth might shatter.
Ellie, completely unable to control her raging curiosity, grabbed the folder.
She quickly pulled out the legal documents.
Her wide eyes frantically scanned the bold black print.
Her jaw dropped open in dramatic slow motion.
"It... it only has her name on it," Ellie whispered in pure shock.
Beatrice violently snatched the paper right from her daughter's hands.
She quickly adjusted her reading glasses, squinting hard at the ink.
"This has to be some sort of mistake," Beatrice muttered frantically.
"My son bought this beautiful house!"
"I bought this house with the massive inheritance from my late grandfather," I clarified loudly.
"I bought it completely in cash before we even got married."
"Mark hasn't contributed a single dime to the principal."
"His entire pathetic paycheck goes to paying off his fancy leased sports car."
"And apparently, a huge chunk of it also goes directly into your pockets."
I glared fiercely at Beatrice.
"I saw the hidden bank statements last week, Mark."
"I know you've been secretly sending them thousands of dollars every single month."
"Money that was legally supposed to go into Dustin's college fund."
Mark looked exactly like a trapped, desperate wild animal.
He frantically darted his panicked eyes between me and his stunned mother.
"Sarah, please," he suddenly lowered his voice, attempting a pathetic placating tone.
"Let's not do this out here in front of them."
"Let's go upstairs and talk about this privately like rational adults."
"There is absolutely nothing left to talk about," I said firmly.
I walked over to the dark corner of the room.
I knelt down gently next to my son.
I carefully wiped the fresh tears from his cold little cheeks.
I picked him up easily, holding his small body tight against my chest.
He instantly buried his face in my neck, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
"You have exactly one hour and forty-five minutes," I announced loudly to the room.
"If you are not gone by then, I am officially calling the police."
"I will have all three of you forcefully removed for criminal trespassing."
Mark exploded into a fit of rage.
"You can't kick me out!" he roared at me.
"I'm your legal husband!"
"I have basic marital rights!"
"Actually, you don't," I smiled thinly at him.
"My lawyer and I drafted an iron-clad prenuptial agreement."
"The exact one you eagerly signed because you were so desperate to prove you weren't after my money."
"In the event of a separation, you must vacate the primary residence immediately without contest."
"Consider this my formal declaration of separation."
I turned my back firmly on all of them.
May you like
I carried my precious son up the long staircase.
I didn't look back once as the chaotic, frantic screaming erupted in the dining room behind me.
