I looked at all of them, and for the first time, there was no confusion left. They truly believed they were entitled to my life.
“Fine,” I said, my voice steady again. “Let’s wait for the lawyer.”
We returned downstairs just as the doorbell rang. My father opened it with confidence, welcoming his attorney inside. The man took in the room, then turned to me with a professional expression.
“It would be reasonable to share this property with your family,” he began.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I picked up my phone. Moments later, the sound of sirens filled the air outside, growing louder until flashing lights spilled through the windows.
My parents froze.
“I already handled it,” I said calmly.
The police entered, and I explained the situation clearly before connecting my phone to the screen. Security footage began to play. Everyone watched as my family entered my house while I was away, opened cabinets, drank expensive wine, and spoke openly about moving in without permission.
Murmurs spread across the room.
“This is unlawful entry and theft,” I said.