My Family Tried to Evict Me from the Craftsman House My Grandparents Left Me
“And the outstanding loan Ashley took?” I asked.
“The title company’s legal team is handling the recovery from her broker,” he said, pulling a set of heavy brass keys from his pocket.
The keys sat in his palm, attached to a simple metal ring that had once belonged to my grandfather.
“These are the spares from my office safe,” he said, dropping them into my hand.
“Are there any other copies out there?” I asked.
“Not legal ones,” Richard said, closing his briefcase.
“My father called me three times yesterday,” I said, sliding the folder under my arm.
“He called my office too,” Richard said, looking out toward the orange trees at the edge of the yard.
“Did you answer him?” I asked.
“I told him the trust is the sole owner of this property, and I represent the trustee,” he said.
He adjusted his glasses and looked at me with a quiet, steady expression.
“You do not have to take their calls, Emily,” he said.
“I know,” I said.
He walked back down the steps, his shadow stretching long across the green lawn as the morning light grew brighter.
