At Dinner, My Sister Drenched Me In Wine, Shouting: “You Have Until Sunrise To Get Out Of My House!” My Parents Cheered Her On. I Just Smiled, Dropped A Key On The Table, And Replied: “THEN YOU HAVE 60 SECONDS…”

“You did,” I agreed, spreading the documents on the table, careful to avoid the wine puddles. “But what Lauren didn’t tell you is that she took out three mortgages on it. One in 2019 to fund her failed boutique. Another in 2021 for her cryptocurrency venture. And a third just last year for her essential oils pyramid scheme.”

Lauren lunged across the table, trying to grab the papers, but I pulled them back smoothly.

“Those were investments. Business opportunities,” she snapped.

“They were disasters,” I corrected. “And when you couldn’t make the payments, the bank started foreclosure proceedings. Funny how you managed to hide all those notices from Mom and Dad during their visits.”

My mother’s head swiveled between Lauren and me like she was watching a tennis match.

“Lauren, is this true?”

Lauren’s silence was answer enough.

“I found out about the foreclosure two months ago,” I continued, my voice steady and factual. “Did you know that foreclosure notices are public record? As a financial adviser, I make it my business to check these things. Imagine my surprise when I saw this address listed.”

I pulled out another document—the deed transfer paperwork.

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