“Get your things off MY lawn before I call the police!”

When my father passed away, my daughter-in-law threw all my family’s belongings onto the lawn, claiming she had inherited the house. Minutes later, my son arrived, and karma hit her hard.

When my dad’s lawyer called about the reading of the will, I was knee-deep in moving boxes, sorting through decades of memories. I couldn’t make it to the lawyer’s office, so I called my son, Matt, and asked him to go in my place.

—”Sure, Mom,” he replied. “Are you sure you don’t need help sorting Grandpa’s things?”

—”Thanks, but I’ll manage,” I told him. “I’m picking up his things from the nursing home today. Why don’t you come by later and see if there’s anything special you’d like to keep to remember him?”

I was certain the reading of the will would be straightforward and without surprises. I was so wrong.

The nursing home smelled of antiseptic and slightly of wilted flowers, a combination that tightened my throat. I took a deep breath as a young nurse handed me my father’s belongings, carefully packed in a plain, worn-out cardboard box.

—”Here you go, ma’am,” the nurse said softly but distantly, as if she had done this hundreds of times

I nodded and murmured a quiet thank you as I lifted the box.

It wasn’t heavy, yet the weight of reality bore down on me. Inside were simple things: his favorite sweater, a small Bible with a worn-out cover, and several mystery novels with dog-eared pages.

I ran my fingers over the sweater and caught a faint whiff of his cologne—familiar yet fleeting.

As I turned to leave, the truth finally hit me.

Dad was really gone. I clutched the box tightly as if holding onto it could somehow keep him with me. By the time I reached my car, silent tears were streaming down my cheeks.

I sat in the car and cried until I had no tears left. My phone rang several times, but it was only Matt. He was probably worried about me, but some grief must be faced alone.

The last thing I expected to find when I got home was my entire life scattered across the front lawn as if it were some kind of heartless estate sale.

The wind picked up, scattering the carefully packed memories I had taken from the attic.

Mom’s old recipes, her china, the worn-out checkered quilt Dad used to nap under, and all of his books—they were all out in the open, unprotected, as if they meant nothing. I stumbled out of my car, my heart pounding.

—”For the love of God, what…?” I murmured, my voice lost in the wind.

—”Oh, good. You’re finally back. I was getting tired of waiting.”

There was Jessica, lounging on the patio furniture, her designer sunglasses perched on her nose and her lipstick far too bright. My daughter-in-law didn’t even look up from her phone. She took a sip of her coffee, her lips curving into a barely concealed smirk.

—”Jessica… What is all this?” My eyes scanned the chaos, disbelief squeezing my chest. “What are you doing?”

She looked up and lowered her sunglasses just enough for me to see the contempt in her eyes. She waved a perfectly manicured hand dismissively.
—”I’m doing what’s right. After all, this is my house now.”

A cold knot twisted in my stomach.

—”Your house? What are you talking about?”

—”Looks like you should have attended the will reading.”

Jessica lifted a crisp document, and there it was—my father’s signature, clear as day, at the bottom.

—”I guess your father knew who deserved this house more, huh?”

—”That’s impossible. Dad would never…”

—”Oh, but he did.” She smirked with satisfaction, casually inspecting her perfect manicure.

—”Signed, sealed, delivered. The house is mine now.”
She leaned toward me, and her perfume—cloying and artificial—invaded my space.
—”I think it’s time for you to move on, Hattie.”
Just then, a truck rumbled up the driveway, and Matt stepped out. His face twisted in confusion at the sight before him.

—”What the hell, Jess? First, you run out of the lawyer’s office, and now you send me this weird text? What’s going on?” he asked, looking between me and Jessica, his jaw tight.

She stretched lazily before finally getting to her feet, looking smug and at ease in her towering heels. My skin prickled.
—”Like I said, I’m making some necessary changes, darling. And there’s something else you should know.”
Matt’s expression hardened.