NEXT CHAPTER: The Plate by the Toolbox

Mom's laughter lasted exactly seven minutes.

That was how long it took Grace to reach Marcus Shaw.

The hold wasn't on the sale proceeds themselves.

It was on a separate wire someone had attempted to route through a newly created account using my identity.

The title officer had misunderstood the investigator's cautionary note.

By 9:31, underwriting cleared my proceeds.

The transaction was complete.

Northline Residential owned 1847 Willow Crest.

My family did not know what to do with that fact.

For years, every argument had ended with the same invisible assumption: Claire will still pay Monday.

Saturday morning removed Monday.

Soren met Mom and Dad in the lobby with a written thirty-day transition packet.

"You have time to relocate," he said. "Utilities remain active during the transition period. Our property manager will schedule access for measurements and repairs. Do not remove fixtures or contract-included appliances."

Mom stared at him.

"Who do I pay rent to?"

"There is no rent for the thirty-day transition because the purchase contract accounts for occupancy. After that, if possession has not been returned, our legal department handles it."

"Legal department?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She looked at me.

Her face held something new.

Not anger.

Calculation without leverage.

"Claire," she said softly, "where are we supposed to go?"

I almost answered automatically.

I almost started searching rental listings in my head.

Dad's credit wasn't good.

Mom's cards were maxed.

Tyler was in custody.

Jenna had two kids.

I knew exactly how to solve all of it.

That was the disease in me.

Not chemicals.

Rescue.

I looked at Grace.

She said nothing.

She didn't have to.

"You have thirty days," I told Mom.

Her eyes widened.

"That's it?"

"That's more time than you gave me when you put my dinner in the garage."

"Claire, don't be petty."

I laughed.

"Petty would be taking the medicine back. Petty would be canceling the phones today. Petty would be embarrassing you online the way you've embarrassed me for years. I'm not doing any of that."

"Then help us."

"No."

The word came out quiet.

That made it stronger.

Mom looked genuinely confused.

"No?"

"No."

Dad stepped forward.

"Marlene. Enough."

She spun toward him.

"Don't you start."

"I already started four years too late."

He looked at me.

"I found a room."

I blinked.

"What?"

"My cousin Dean has a basement apartment. I called him at six this morning. I'll pay him from my Social Security and the part-time estimate work I can still do."

Mom stared at him like he had betrayed her.

"You made plans without me?"

Dad's laugh was exhausted.

"You filed papers saying our daughter was incompetent without telling her. I think we're past complaining about communication."

For the first time in my life, my mother had no immediate answer.

Then Jenna entered the lobby.

She had left the kids with her sister.

She walked straight to me.

"Tyler was released pending investigation," she said. "He can't contact your workplace."

"Okay."

"I'm not going back to the house with him."

Mom snapped, "Jenna, don't be dramatic."