After my dad passed away, I thought the worst was over. But I didn’t see what was coming—until the day I came home to find all my belongings tossed on the porch like garbage. Sharon, my stepmom, looked me dead in the eye and said, “This house is for family.” Then she slammed the door in my face. Just days after burying my father, I was suddenly homeless. Sharon and her grown kids didn’t want me there now that Dad was gone. I stayed on a neighbor’s couch that night, numb and heartbroken,
and called the only person I had left—my mom.She didn’t hesitate. Drove through the night to get me. But when she arrived, she dropped a bombshell: she had secretly paid off the mortgage years ago during the divorce, and the house—on paper—had always been hers. My dad had never told Sharon. And now, she had the deed. That weekend,