The railing had been replaced with sleek modern panels and new security cameras watched from each corner of the roof. A bright red luxury sedan sat in the driveway where my mother once kept a small wooden garden shed.
Before I even stepped out of the car the front door flew open.
Diana marched toward me in expensive athletic clothes while Madeline followed behind her holding a phone pointed directly at my face.
“I told you not to come here!” Diana shouted.
“Go ahead and call the police,” I replied calmly while pulling my suitcase from the trunk. “I already did.”
At that exact moment two patrol cars turned into the driveway.
One of the officers stepped out and approached us with professional calm.
“Mrs Crawford,” he said, addressing Diana. “We received your complaint about trespassing.”
“Yes,” she snapped while pointing at me. “That woman has no right to be here.”
The officer opened a folder.
“There seems to be some confusion,” he said. “According to the documents provided by attorney Evelyn Porter this property legally belongs to Miss Rebecca Hale.”
Diana froze.
“That is impossible,” she insisted. “My husband signed the deed over to me.”