She was, in fact, assembling the evidence for her own eviction, one vindictive act at a time, and handing it to my lawyer.

Chapter 19 — I Knew What I Was Signing

When our court hearing finally arrived, my mother sat across the aisle in a tailored beige suit she reserved for weddings and funerals, and she refused to meet my eye.

Her attorney argued that the original property transfer had been the result of a vague, “misunderstood family arrangement.”

And then my father took the witness stand.

He did not yell.