She looked up at me.
You’re saying the plaintiff accepted service on behalf of the defendant?
Yes, I said.
She stared at me for a long second, then stood up without another word and disappeared through the door behind her.
I waited, handsfolded, breathing steady, listening to muffled voices inside the judge’s chambers.
When the door opened again, the assistant returned holding my packet like it was suddenly heavier. She leaned toward the window and spoke quietly.
“Judge Halprin will see you,” she said. “But I need to warn you. Your parents attached one more document to their filing. And if it’s what it looks like, this isn’t just an eviction.”
My stomach tightened.
“What document?”
The assistant swallowed once.
“Adeed,” she said. A recorded deed that claims the house was transferred back to them.
My body went cold, but my face stayed still.
A deed? I repeated quietly. Transferred back to them.
The assistant nodded once, eyes cautious. It’s in the court file as an exhibit. You’ll see it when you’re in front of the judge.
I didn’t argue in the hallway. I didn’t demand to see it through the glass like a frantic person. I simply nodded and said, “Yes, thank you.”
Then I followed her through the door into department 14.
The courtroom was smaller than the lobby below, dimmer, quieter, built for decisions that ruined people politely. A few attorneys sat scattered in the benches with laptops open. A man in a wrinkled suit stared at his hands like he was waiting to be punished.
And then I saw my parents. They were seated near the front with a lawyer beside them. a man with silver hair and a calm posture, the kind of attorney people hire when they want the court to assume they’re the reasonable ones. My mother wore a soft cardigan and a concerned expression like she’d come to rescue me from myself. My father stared straight ahead, jaw set. They didn’t look nervous. They looked prepared.
When my mother spotted me, she gave a small sad smile like she was about to perform compassion, and I didn’t return it.
The baiff called the case number and we approached the tables.
Judge Halprren took the bench and immediately looked down at the file with a frown that told me she’d already seen something she didn’t like.
Good morning, she said. We have an emergency motion to stay enforcement of a rid of possession. Miss Ward, you’re the defendant.
Yes, your honor, I replied.
continued on next page
For complete cooking times, go to the next page or click the Open button (>), and don't forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
