Part 7

Megan interpreted that as weakness.

“You’ll regret this,” she whispered.

“No,” I said. “You will.”

The next morning, I changed every lock.

Then I installed two additional cameras.

But I wasn’t finished.

I contacted the school district and explained that Megan had used my address without authorization. I also contacted the post office to make sure her mail would no longer be delivered there.

Then I called the attorney whose name appeared on the draft agreement.

That conversation was interesting.

Very interesting.

He sounded horrified.

My father had told him that I had already verbally agreed to everything and that the document was merely formalizing a family arrangement.

The lawyer had never spoken to me.

He apologized and confirmed in writing that I had never signed or accepted the agreement.

Then I did something my family hadn’t expected.

I stopped answering their calls.

For three weeks, Mom sent long messages accusing me of destroying the family.

Dad sent shorter ones.

Megan sent none.

Then, on a rainy Wednesday afternoon, someone knocked on my door.

It was Megan.

Alone.

No boxes.

No children.

She looked exhausted.

“I need five minutes.”

I almost closed the door.

Then she said, “Mom and Dad are selling their house.”

I stopped.

“What?”

She laughed bitterly.

“They told me I could stay with them after you kicked me out. Then Dad finally showed Mom their credit card statements.”

Apparently, the $19,000 they’d admitted spending on Megan wasn’t the full amount.