The next morning, I logged into my mobile banking app, navigated to the recurring payments tab, and located Paige’s monthly transfer. I tapped the button that read “Cancel recurring transfer.”
The app prompted me with a popup asking, “Are you sure you want to cancel?”
I selected yes without a moment of hesitation. Within five seconds, the screen refreshed with a confirmation message stating that the transfer had been terminated.
Next, I opened a hidden folder containing photos of a deed executed five years prior when my parents wanted to organize family property after a messy legal dispute over an inheritance.
Back then, my mother had insisted, “Let’s put it under Paige’s name, because she would never betray us.”
The document had been executed before an attorney and registered in the public land records. Over time, my parents grew accustomed to speaking about that apartment as though they still owned it outright, and I had never corrected their delusion.
I zoomed in on the image until the critical text became clear. The registered owner was explicitly listed as Paige Miller.
My mother had just thrown away our relationship over a simple bowl of soup, completely oblivious to the fact that she had legally evicted the sole owner of the residence. I could hardly fathom the storm that was about to hit them.
For illustration purposes only
