Vivian's face shifted the instant she recognized me. "What do you mean, your room? This is my house!"
That's when I noticed—every piece of furniture, every item in the bedroom had been rearranged. None of it was mine.
"What the hell happened here?"
Christine rushed upstairs and grabbed my arm.
"Lola, listen to me. This afternoon while you were out, Vivian said this room gets the best sunlight. She thinks Leo needs more sun exposure to help him grow, so she moved in."
Heat crept up my neck. "Without even asking me?"
"Asking you?" Vivian pulled on a robe, chin lifted with righteous indignation. "I'm living in my own home. Who exactly do I need permission from?"
Dad had been woken by the commotion. He appeared at the doorway, took one look at the scene, and his expression turned to stone.
"This is outrageous! Who told you to touch Lola's room? Move everything back. Now."
Vivian's eyes glistened on cue. "Dad, Leo is your grandson too. Can't you think about him for once? That north-facing bedroom barely gets any light. If he develops a calcium deficiency, is that what you want?"
"That's still no excuse to move in without permission!"