“I don’t know what you mean,” I said honestly. My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears.
The lawyer stepped forward, clearing his throat. He adjusted his glasses and spoke carefully, as if every word mattered.
I felt my breath catch. My husband had been quiet in his final weeks, reflective. I remembered him watching me with a look I couldn’t quite place. Had he known this would happen?
The lawyer continued.
“While Melissa was named the owner of the house, there was a condition attached. She was required to allow you to live there peacefully for the rest of your life. No rent. No interference.”
Melissa’s face drained of color.
“If she ever forced you out, demanded you leave, or made the home unlivable,” the lawyer said calmly, “she would forfeit ownership entirely. The house would then transfer to you, permanently.”
The room was silent.
A Consequence of Cruelty
Melissa’s legs seemed to give way beneath her as the truth settled in. Her own actions had triggered the very clause she never bothered to read. In her rush to claim what she thought was hers, she had undone herself.
The lawyer turned to me.
I stood there, unable to move. Tears blurred my vision as understanding washed over me.
My husband had known.
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