“Helen, what did you do with our things?” Brittany screamed through the phone, pounding on the front door. I calmly explained that everything was packed, inventoried, and safely stored three miles away. Their belongings, along with the storage key and address, were waiting outside. I had paid for three months of storage because they had paid nothing to live in my home.

Tyler pleaded from behind the door, asking where they were supposed to go. Looking at Robert’s photograph and remembering the year I had spent sleeping on the couch while they treated my home like theirs, I finally felt no guilt. I opened the door slightly, holding the deed in my hand. Only Robert’s and my names were on it. I told them this house had never belonged to them—and after today, it certainly didn’t. Brittany began arguing, but I raised the deed and calmly told them the decision was final. Then Tyler said something that made me realize this confrontation was about to become even more difficult.