My Family Tried to Evict Me from the Craftsman House My Grandparents Left Me
The dry autumn air stirred the leaves of the lemon tree in the corner of the yard, the scent of dust and citrus rising from the soil. I wanted to believe her so badly that my throat felt tight.
“I want things to be normal between us too,” I said.
“They will be,” she said, giving my arm a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “We just need to clear up the paperwork so we can all move forward as a family.”
“What paperwork do you mean?” I asked.
“Just the standard things,” she said, her fingers returning to her hair, smoothing the stray strands behind her ears. “Mom said she would help us coordinate everything in the kitchen.”
She took a slow sip of her tea, the ice cubes clinking against the glass in the quiet evening.
“I just want to get my life back on track,” Ashley said, her eyes fixed on the fence line. “And I know you want the same for yourself.”
“I do,” I said.
“Then let us just put all this conflict behind us,” she said, standing up and sliding her chair back. “Mom is waiting for us inside.”
