Grandmother leaned back.
“No.
I’m correcting the humiliation you allowed my granddaughter and great-granddaughter to endure while benefiting from property that belonged to them.”
Mom looked at me.
“You put her up to this.”
For the first time that day, I felt something other than shock.
Anger arrived quietly.
“Three days ago I thought Hawthorne Street was just the name of a house you told me I would never have.”
“Because you weren’t ready for it!”
The words came out before Mom could stop them.
The entire room heard them.
Dad closed his eyes.
Grandmother’s gaze sharpened.
“So you did know the house was Maya’s.”
Mom realized what she’d admitted.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It is exactly what you meant.”
Dad stepped closer to Mom.
“Evelyn, enough.
We made decisions we believed were responsible.
Maya was struggling.
Giving her control of a valuable property at that point would have been reckless.”
“It was not yours to give or withhold,” Grandmother said.
“We’re her parents.”
“She is an adult.”
“She’s our daughter.”
Grandmother’s voice stayed level.
“And you let your granddaughter live in a family shelter while collecting rent from her mother’s house.”
Dad had no answer for that.
Neither did Mom.
I looked over at Laya.
She was sitting on the edge of the couch, her backpack still on, watching me with the same careful expression she wore whenever adults became unpredictable.
I suddenly hated that expression.
No six-year-old should have to study a room for danger before deciding whether she can relax.
“What happens now?” I asked.
Grandmother closed the laptop.
“Now we stop them from doing anything else with the property.”
She had already spoken with an attorney and the title company.
The disputed transfer was being challenged.
A notice had been filed so the house could not quietly be sold or borrowed against while ownership was contested.
Future rental payments would be held separately until the matter was resolved.
Dad’s face changed again.
“You had no right to do that without talking to us.”
Grandmother almost smiled.
“That is an interesting complaint under the circumstances.”
For the first time, someone in the room coughed to hide a laugh.
Mom heard it.
Her embarrassment turned to fury.
“Fine,” she said.
“Give Maya everything.
Bail her out again.
And when she loses it, don’t come crying to us.”
I stood slowly.
“I never asked you to save me.”
“You’ve spent your whole life needing someone to save you.”
I glanced at Laya.
