When we arrived, my parents had already set the table. It wasn't as extravagant as the Fletchers' spread, but every dish was something I loved.
Rosemary passed out on the couch within minutes, her small body curled into the cushions.
Only then did I check my phone.
Ninety-nine-plus messages in the family group chat. I didn't need to read them to know what they said.
But one message stood out—from Melody Lambert, my neighbor.
Cassandra, did someone break into your place? A whole bunch of people showed up. They're tearing the apartment apart.
My stomach dropped.
I pulled up the security camera app.
On the screen, Abner led the charge—his parents and his brother right behind him. They were ransacking my home. Clothes ripped from the wardrobe. Drawers dumped onto the floor. Books, documents, everything scattered like debris after a storm.
My mother-in-law's voice crackled through the microphone, shrill and relentless.
"Search everywhere! She's definitely hiding it here!"
"Mom, this doesn't feel right..." Abner's voice wavered, thin and unconvincing.
"What's not right about it?! That's marital property! What gives her the right to keep it all?!"
"But lottery tickets are bearer instruments..."