No one knew I went to the bank. I didn’t usually go myself. But to my surprise, there he was….

The folder was back. Next to it, a printed letter. My lawyer’s letterhead stamped clean across the top.

Michael dropped his keys on the counter. What is that? I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I stood up and looked around the living room, my living room, for what I realized might be the last time with them in it.

You moved into this house three years ago, I began, after Michael lost his first job. You said it would be temporary. Claire opened her mouth, but I lifted a hand.

You said you needed help while adjusting. I agreed, because that’s what mothers do. Michael scoffed.

Are we doing this again? No, I said. This time, we’re finishing it. I stepped closer to the table and tapped the letter.

This is a formal 30-day eviction notice from my attorney. You’ll both be out by the end of next month. Claire’s voice cracked.

Mom, you’re kicking us out? No, I replied. You removed yourselves the moment you stood in a bank and told someone I was mentally gone. All I’m doing now is confirming it.

Michael raised his voice. We supported you. You lived here rent free, I snapped.

I paid utilities, groceries, taxes, and kept quiet every time you brought up future plans that somehow always involved my house. Claire stepped forward. We didn’t mean for things to go this far.

You did, I cut in. You just didn’t think I’d notice, or that I’d ever say no. She blinked.

But where are we supposed to go? I looked her straight in the eye. Somewhere that teaches you how to respect a roof that isn’t yours. Michael crossed his arms.

You’re punishing your daughter because of me? I smiled, not kindly. No, I’m holding you both accountable. She married you.

She lied with you. She stayed silent with you. Claire’s hands trembled now.

What about Nora? Where is she supposed to sleep? I paused, then walked over to the side table and picked up a smaller folder. This is a trust, I said, created today in Nora’s name. It’s modest, but real, and it’s separate.

She’s 12 and not responsible for your decisions. I handed it to Claire, but she will learn from them, for better or worse. Michael’s face twisted.

You think this makes you some kind of hero? No, I replied. It makes me a woman who stopped apologizing for having boundaries. He turned to Claire…