Kayla picked up the first document, and her lips moved as she read. It was a notarized letter from the county recorder confirming the deed: my parents, sole owners, with a lifetime protection clause I had filed the week of closing. Her hands began to tremble. “What does this mean?” she whispered. I said nothing. Through the glass, Trevor pressed his face to the door, sensing something had changed.

She flipped to the second page, and the color drained from her cheeks. It was a formal notice, signed by my parents that morning, with a stamp from the sheriff’s office. “Mom signed this?” Kayla breathed. Behind her, my mother finally turned from the sink, eyes red but steady. “I did, sweetheart,” she said quietly. Then the front door opened, and a deputy stepped inside holding a clipboard.