After my father passed away suddenly, I returned to my childhood home — only to find the locks changed and a cruel note taped to the door from my stepmother, Carla. She claimed the house was hers now and that I was never more than a guest. My belongings, my mom’s painting, and even the urn with my childhood dog’s ashes were dumped on the porch.

Devastated, I left — only to be contacted by my dad’s lawyer the next day. That’s when everything changed. My father had secretly placed the house in a trust — for me. Legally, it was mine. Carla had no right to be there.Three weeks later,