But after the last guest left, everything changed.
Noah looked at me and said, “Aunt, we need to talk.”
Mason reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope.
He slid it across the table.
“We need you to read this.”
My hands shook as I opened it.
At the top of the document were three words:
NOTICE TO VACATE.
I stared at the page, unable to breathe.
“I don’t understand.”
“You have thirty days,” Mason said. “Dad left the house to us. We’re eighteen now, so it legally belongs to us.”
I looked from one face to the other.
“I know the house is in your names. I’m the one who paid the taxes every year so it would still be here for you.”
“And we appreciate that,” Noah said coldly. “But things are different now.”
They told me they had already spoken to a lawyer.
They had a buyer.
They wanted to sell the house.
Their father’s house.
The home where I had raised them.
“Where am I supposed to go?” I asked quietly.
Mason shrugged. “You’ll figure it out. People rent apartments all the time.”
I felt something inside me crack.
