“The lock got changed at seven this morning,” Gene said.

“My childhood photo albums are in the hall closet,” I said.

“I’m taking my personal belongings.”

Gene pulled a typed document out of his folder and held it up in front of my face.

“This is a formal notice of estate preservation signed by the probate registry.

As named executor, I have sole legal control over this property until the court settles the estate.”

“You can’t lock me out of the house I grew up in, Gene.”