When I Moved Into My First House, I Came Home One Night To Find My Parents Sitting In The Living Room. When I Asked Why, My Mom Smiled And Said: “We’ll Treat It Like A Family Place Now.” I Didn’t Argue.

She beamed. “Just some organization.

You know how you love structure. This way, it’s fair for everyone.”

“Fair,” I repeated. “You moved in without asking, ate my food, and took my bedroom.”

“Well,” she said, “it’s still your home.

We’re just making it feel like ours again.”

Dad didn’t even look up from the TV. “It’s what family does, sweetheart. We share.”

“Funny,” I said.

“I don’t remember you sharing the college fund.”

That got his attention. I walked to the fridge, peeled the expense chart off, and folded it neatly. “By the way,” I said, “I met with my lawyer today.”

Mom blinked.

“About what?”

“Oh, nothing serious,” I said. “Just clarifying who legally lives here.”

Her smile wavered. “Carrie, stop this.

You’re being cold.”

“No,” I said softly. “And I’m being clear.”

I walked to my desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a copy of the notice of security update. Then I taped it to the fridge where her chart had been.

Dad squinted. “What’s that?”

“Policy reminder,” I said. “Read it.”

He read the top line aloud.

“Notice of security update. All unauthorized occupants must vacate premises by Monday, 10:00.”

Silence. Even the TV felt quieter.

“You’re joking,” Mom said finally. “Does it look like a joke?”

My phone buzzed. Ethan again: Need me to come by?

I typed back, Not yet. Let them see the clock tick. Because that’s what it was now.

A countdown. Three days left before my parents and sister learned that being family didn’t mean being entitled. Monday at 10:00.

That was the new rule. And this time I wasn’t breaking it. Saturday arrived dressed like calm, but calm is a costume chaos loves to wear.

The house smelled like cheap perfume and toasted bagels I hadn’t bought. When I came downstairs, Mom was rearranging my spice rack for efficiency, and Dad was humming along to an old radio like he’d been living there for decades. I stood in the doorway, arms folded.

“Where’s Natalie?”

Mom turned cheerful. “She’ll be here soon. She had a showing with her study partner.”

“Oh,” I said.

“What’s her name?”

“Meline,” Mom said, as if it was nothing. “Such a bright young woman.”

My pulse tightened. Meline, as in Ethan’s ex-girlfriend.

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