Ronald carving something.
Cassandra pouring drinks.
Clover eating like she owned the kitchen.
Ben talking loud about some online tournament.
Abby scrolling while she chewed.
I walked in without knocking.
The table went quiet for a second.
Not from guilt.
Just surprise.
Cassandra forced a smile.
“Matthew, sweetheart, grab a plate.”
I put an envelope in front of Ronald and Cassandra.
Notice of termination.
Ronald skimmed it, then slammed it down.
“You’re evicting your own parents. Are you insane?”
Before the shouting could build, I placed more papers on the table.
One in front of Ben.
One in front of Clover.
One in front of Abby.
Notices to vacate.
Unauthorized occupancy.
Ben stood so fast his chair scraped.
“You’re kidding.”
Clover’s face pinched.
“I’m pregnant. You can’t do this.”
Abby snapped.
“You have no soul.”
And Cassandra started in with the same line she always used when she wanted control back.
“This is our home. Our home.”
I stayed calm.
“You changed my lock. You dumped my property in the hallway. You damaged my things. You violated the agreement. This isn’t a debate. It’s notice.”
Ben stepped toward me.
“We’re not leaving.”
I didn’t step back.
“Then you’ll explain that to a judge.”
I walked out while the yelling chased me to the door.
The next few weeks, they didn’t leave, because of course they didn’t.
They treated the papers like a tantrum, something they could ignore until I got tired and folded.
So my lawyer filed.
There was a court date, then another step, then the ruling.
They showed up acting offended like the whole thing was a misunderstanding and I was just being dramatic over a room.
They tried guilt.