Chapter 22 — Not Your House

Emiliano stepped down off the platform.

“This is over.

Everyone out of my house.”

I laughed — short, dry, the first real sound of my old self I’d made in weeks.

“Not your house.” The power of attorney appeared on the screen, and then the hospital footage beside it: Emiliano guiding a pen in my limp fingers while the notary stamped his seal.