Were we being robbed on the day of Paul’s funeral? I quickly helped Dad out of the car and into his wheelchair, my mind racing. Should I call the police? But as we approached the front door, I heard familiar voices inside. A chill ran down my spine as I recognized them.
I pushed open the door to find Maria and Olivia in our living room, surrounded by boxes and pieces of furniture. «What the hell is going on here?» I demanded, my grief momentarily forgotten in the face of this outrageous intrusion. Maria turned to me, her face a mask of fake sympathy.
«Oh, Julie dear, we’re just helping you pack up. After all, you can’t possibly afford to keep this place now that Paul is gone.» I was speechless.
Olivia added, her voice sickeningly sweet. «Don’t worry, you can go back to your father’s apartment. It’s cozy.»
I could feel the anger building inside me. «Get out,» I said, my voice low and dangerous. «Get out of my house right now.»
Maria had the nerve to look offended. «This house belongs to us now. All of Paul’s property does. We’re his family after all.»
«Like hell you are,» I exploded. «Where were you today at his funeral? Oh, that’s right, you couldn’t be bothered to show up.»
Maria waved her hand dismissively. «We were busy making arrangements. Now be a good girl and start packing.
We’ll move you out by tomorrow.» I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. These women hadn’t shed a tear for Paul, hadn’t even attended his funeral, and now they were trying to kick us out of our home.
«I’m calling the police,» I said, pulling out my phone. Maria and Olivia exchanged worried looks. They clearly hadn’t expected me to fight back. «Now, Julie,» Maria began, but I cut her off.
«No, you have exactly 10 minutes to get out of my house before I call the cops. This is my home. Paul and I bought it together.
You have no right to be here.» Maybe it was the steel in my voice or the fire in my eyes, but Maria and Olivia finally realized they had gone too far. They gathered their things and left, but not before Maria turned to me with a sneer.
«This isn’t over, Julie. You’ll be hearing from our lawyers.» The days after Paul’s funeral were a blur of grief, anxiety, and paperwork.
I threw myself into sorting out Paul’s affairs, partly to keep busy and partly out of fear that Maria and Olivia would try to take what wasn’t theirs. A week after the funeral, I received a call from a local law firm. My heart pounded as I answered the call, afraid it was Maria following through on her threat of legal action…
Обсуждение закрыто.