An hour later, Jonathan delivered the notice himself. I waited in the car down the street.
Jonathan said something polite, perhaps explaining the law. Then he walked back to me and said simply, “Served.”
That night, I expected to feel victorious. Instead, I just felt tired — like a weight had finally slid off my chest.
But the fight wasn’t over. My mother immediately hired an attorney, claiming I had “influenced” my father while he was ill. Jonathan filed for emergency possession. I submitted a police report describing how she’d locked Hannah out in the rain. The officer’s words still echo in my mind: “That’s neglect. You did the right thing.”
Within two days, the judge signed the order. The house was legally mine again.
The Day Everything Came Full Circle
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