Chapter 3

After I left the building, I did three things. First, I went to the police station to file a report.

I filed two cases at once. The first was for Linda assaulting a minor.

I brought the hospital's diagnosis report and the admission records.

A customer who had been eating at the restaurant that day had posted a video of the attack online, and I submitted that as well.

The second case was for Frank forging my signature and posing as the landlord to rent out my property.

The officer reviewed the paperwork and flipped through the contract photos.

His expression turned serious. "We can process the assault on a minor right away. As for the forged signature, I'd recommend you also pursue a civil lawsuit. Just make sure you hold on to all your evidence."

I nodded.

The second thing I did was find a lawyer. Mary connected me with an attorney named Grant who specialized in property disputes.

He listened to the whole story, then slapped his pen down on the desk. "This kind of thing happens all the time. Family leeches picking the bones clean. But your evidence is solid. You've got this in the bag."

He helped me prepare three documents—an eviction notice with a deadline to vacate, a lawsuit to recover six years of unpaid rent, and a lawsuit to recover the seventy-two thousand dollars Frank had pocketed from subletting my property without permission.

The third thing I did was go to the bank.

After I married David, Melinda had taken both our paychecks under the excuse of "managing the household finances."

She said it made more sense to pool everything together so we young people wouldn't waste money.

But seven years later, the reality was clear. Every utility bill, every grocery run, every piece of clothing had all come out of my account. Frank even used my card to cover his business expenses and to improve his cash flow.

As for David's paycheck, Melinda claimed she had been saving it. But how much she had actually saved, or how much she had spent, I had never once seen the numbers.

I took my ID to the bank and reported my old card lost so they could issue a replacement.

The teller asked if I wanted a new account number.

"Yes." I didn't hesitate for a second.

When I got the new card, I held it in my hand and stared at it for a long time.

Starting today, every dollar I earned was going straight into my own pocket.

At four in the afternoon, I walked back to the building with a lawyer's letter and an eviction notice in hand.

Linda was greeting customers outside the restaurant, but the smile vanished from her face the moment she saw me. "What are you doing here?"

I ignored her and taped the notice directly onto the restaurant's glass door.

Linda leaned in to read it, and her voice shot up instantly. "Susan, what the hell is this? An eviction notice? You're kicking us out?"

Frank came rushing out of the kitchen with his apron still on.

His face went stiff the moment he read the notice. "That's impossible. We've been running this place for six years."

I looked him dead in the eye. "Six years without paying a single cent. That's called freeloading, not running a business."

I took a step closer. "Oh, and by the way, that clothing store next door? You hid it from me for three whole years. You forged my signature, pretended to be the landlord, and collected seventy-two thousand dollars in rent. I've already filed a police report."

Frank's face went from white to gray, and his lips trembled.

Linda lunged at me and tried to grab my collar. "Susan, you're full of it. This is Lewis family property. Who are you to call the shots?"

I tilted my head to dodge her hand and stared her down. "You know exactly whose name is on that deed."

As I turned to leave, Linda was still screaming behind me. "Susan, you just wait. You're going to regret this."