**“Finally got rid of the family parasite! Time for a fresh start!”**

Dad commented underneath.

“Best decision I’ve ever made.”

I saved screenshots of both posts.

Then Rebecca uncovered an email from Brooke to one of the event vendors.

In the message, Brooke instructed the vendor to label certain charges as restoration services instead of party expenses.

One sentence was particularly revealing.

**“Dad says Evelyn won’t be checking the accounts once she’s gone.”**

I stared at those words.

Suddenly, the timing of my eviction made perfect sense.

They hadn’t simply wanted my bedroom.

They wanted me out of the way.

Rebecca contacted the bank and documented that Dad’s authority over the trust had ended.

She notified the lender about the disputed mortgage authorization.

Then she filed an emergency court application to prevent further improper transfers while the matter was investigated.

I stayed in my small apartment and let her handle the process.

Brooke continued sending me mocking messages.

One evening, she wrote:

“Hope you’re enjoying your tiny apartment. We’re renovating your old room tomorrow!”

I replied with one sentence.

“Enjoy the house while you still can.”

She responded with a string of laughing emojis.

Three mornings later, at 8:17, my phone rang.

It was Dad.

The moment I answered, he began shouting.

“EVELYN! WHO DID YOU SEND THOSE PHOTOGRAPHS TO?”

I sat down at my kitchen table.