Her name was Margaret Collins, and she specialized in elder financial abuse cases.
I told her everything.
She didn’t interrupt. Just took notes.
When I finished, she folded her hands and said:
“Mr. Hayes, the house is in your name alone. Without a lease or rent payments, they’re there by your permission—and that permission can be revoked.”
“Can they fight it?” I asked.
“They can try,” she said. “But you have documentation. And from what you’ve described… this may go beyond eviction. There are signs of financial exploitation.”
The word sat heavy in the room.
Exploitation.
She drafted a formal notice: 15 days to vacate the property.
It would be delivered both electronically and in person.
I returned home two days later.
Daniel opened the door like nothing had happened.
“Hey, Dad. Good, you’re back. We need to talk.”
I walked past him without answering and placed two envelopes on the dining table.
“Fifteen days,” I said.
Ashley grabbed one first. As she read, her face shifted.
“Wait… you’re kicking us out?”
“Yes.”
Daniel slammed his hand on the table.
“You can’t do that! This is my house too!”
“No,” I said calmly. “It’s the house your mother and I bought. You’ve just been living in it without respect.”