Chapter 3 - The Broken Title
The pain of Evelyn's fingernails digging through Nora's cotton sleeve was sharp, but Nora didn't pull away. She merely looked down at her mother's hand, then up into eyes that burned with raw, unadulterated venom.
"Get your hands off me," Nora said, the words barely a whisper, yet vibrating with enough authority to make Evelyn's grip loosen involuntarily.
Down on the driveway, Richard finally abandoned his comfortable detachment. He jogged up the slippery porch steps, snow crunching heavily under his boots. "Mom, what is that? What are you screaming about?"
Evelyn waved the paper in Richard’s face, her hand trembling so violently the pages rustled like dry autumn leaves. "Look at what your sister did! Look at what this ungrateful viper has done to our family! She's evicting me! From my own home! Your father’s home!"
Richard snatched the pages, skimming the legal text under the dim yellow glow of the porch light. His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in shock. "Nora... this is a thirty-day notice to quit. You can't do this. The house belongs to Mom."
"Read the deed attached behind it, Richard," Nora said, leaning her back against her front door. "Dad didn't leave the house to Evelyn. He left it entirely to me under a revocable living trust five months before he died of pancreatic cancer. He knew she had refinanced it twice behind his back to pay off your failed venture capital debts."
Richard’s face flushed a deep, humiliating crimson. "That was business, Nora! That was supposed to be an investment for the whole family!"
"It was gambling," Nora countered coldly. "And Dad spent his final days terrified that the roof over his head would be repossessed by lenders. I took over the mortgage payments three years ago. I paid the forty-thousand-dollar back taxes that Evelyn hid in kitchen drawers. I paid the insurance. Every single cent that kept that house standing came out of the twelve-hour shifts I pulled while you two laughed and called me the family workhorse."
Evelyn grabbed the porch railing to steady herself, her breath coming in ragged, wheezing gasps. "Your father loved me! He would never leave me homeless! You forged this! You manipulated a dying man while his mind was rotted by morphine!"
"Dad's attorney and two independent physicians signed off on his mental capacity, Mother," Nora said, her voice steady and implacable. "He gave me full ownership because he made me promise one thing. He said, 'Nora, keep the house safe for Abby. Don't let them take it from your girl.' And for three years, I let you live there rent-free. I paid every utility bill. I bought your groceries. All I asked was that you show my daughter an ounce of decency."
"She's a bastard child!" Evelyn shrieked, the ugly truth ripping through her polite façade like a rusted blade. "Her father ran off before she even had a name, and you expect me to put her ahead of Richard's legitimate children? Over my own flesh and blood?"
A sharp gasp came from just inside the house.
May you like
Nora’s heart seized. She whipped around and looked through the decorative glass oval of the front door. Abby was standing on her tiptoes in the foyer, her small face pressed against the glass, her hazel eyes wide with devastating comprehension.
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