My Husband Locked Me and Our Three-Day-Old Out of the House I Owned — He Forgot I’m a Real Estate Attorney
Chapter 17 — Fifteen Minutes
Megan stepped forward, her voice rising.
“We live here!”
“No,” I said.
“You occasionally stayed here between shopping trips.” The property manager glanced at her clipboard and then at the three of them.
“You have fifteen minutes to leave the property,” she said, evenly.
Patricia’s composure finally shattered.
“My dining table!” she cried.
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