I found out my sister kicked my parents out of their own house and had them living in the garage. I only discovered it when I tried to surprise them for Easter.
I live five hours away and talk to my mom daily. She always said, “We’re fine,” so I believed her. We grew up in a close, humble family—my dad built our home, and my mom made it cozy.
My sister Cassandra is dramatic, always in trouble, and can charm her way through anything. When I visited for Easter, I was shocked to find the house remodeled and cold, with my parents nowhere to be seen.
I found them in the garage—my dad fixing things, and my mom bundled up in a coat. They were staying there because Cassandra and her partner were “renovating” the house.
I didn’t yell, I just told them to pack a bag. I took them to a hotel and got to work. Using some family records, I found out Cassandra wasn’t on the deed—she was a guest, and guests can be evicted.
I met her for lunch, pretending to reconcile. When she thought I agreed to sell the house, I told her I had recorded the whole conversation. A few days later, I served her an eviction notice with a police escort.
A week later, my parents were back in their home. My dad handed me the house deed, telling me it was mine if anything ever happened to them.
Cassandra’s now couch-surfing, claiming we betrayed her. But my parents are safe, happy, and home again. That Easter ended with laughter, tulips, and steaks on the grill—just like it used to.
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