After four years of silence, my son Brian showed up, not with an apology, but with a lawyer demanding I vacate my house. Brian had vanished after his father’s death, taking his father’s car, watches, and money without a word. His return was shocking, but his intentions were even worse.
When I opened the door, I saw Brian standing with a lawyer. His voice was cold as he said, “I’m giving you until tomorrow to leave this house, or we’re taking it to court.” Stunned, I asked, “You’re suing me for my house?” He replied sharply, “It belongs to me now.”
The lawyer, however, seemed familiar. When Brian stepped away, the lawyer, James, revealed he was my high school sweetheart. With a small smile, he whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” We went inside, and James assured me we had a plan.
The next day, James called Brian and explained the gravity of his actions. “What you did after your father’s death—taking his car, watches, and other belongings—is a serious offense… that’s theft, Brian.” Brian’s confidence quickly faded as he realized the legal trouble he could face if he continued the lawsuit. “Are you serious?” he asked, voice cracking.
James stood firm. “Yes, and if you push this further, we’ll bring it all to light.” Defeated, Brian muttered, “Fine. I’ll drop it.”
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