Chapter 5: Eviction and Exposure

He gave me a sheepish grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. For the first time all day, my heart eased.

Speak of the devil, Mark slipped in. "Uncle, I heard you talking about me. Hope it wasn’t anything bad."

Mark’s been my best friend forever—a little unreliable, but always full of clever ideas.

He tossed me a wink, peeling a banana like he owned the place. I couldn’t help but laugh.

"What could my dad say? He was praising you, treating you like family." I rolled my eyes, but I meant it.

"Hahaha, did you see today’s show? Your birth parents got roasted. Now the posts dragging them on Instagram are in the thousands. After you were taken away in the ambulance, they got chewed out by the crew for ages. You didn’t see their faces—they were green with embarrassment. Serves them right. Who knows where they’re hiding now."

Mark scrolled through his phone, showing me meme after meme. I shook my head, grateful for his humor, feeling the tension ease.

I said nothing. Let them hide wherever they want, as long as they stay out of my life.

For the first time in ages, I felt lighter, like maybe the worst was behind me.

"By the way, Uncle." Mark peeled a banana by the bed. "Everyone’s praising you now. You’re a real man."

Dad blushed, mumbling about not needing praise. I squeezed his hand, pride swelling in my chest.

Dad stayed in the hospital. I planned to head home to grab some toiletries.

I left the hospital, the cool night air biting my cheeks. I took the long way home, letting the city lights blur by.

As I got close, I could hear raised voices inside.

Burglars?

I paused, listening at the door. Shouting, something crashing. My heart pounded, but I wasn’t about to do anything reckless.

I didn’t storm in like some TV heroine—real life’s not a drama, and you only get one shot.

I turned to the security guard downstairs for backup.

He was a big guy named Officer Davis, always chewing gum and cracking jokes. I waved him over, and we headed up together.

When I opened the door, the living room was a disaster—peanut shells everywhere. My birth mother was smearing ointment on her howling son, birth father was smoking, and someone was banging around in the kitchen.

The smell of burnt onions hit me. My so-called family had made themselves right at home—like squatters who’d never left.

This family really had no shame.

I took in the mess, disbelief mixing with anger. My sanctuary, trampled by strangers.

"Who are you, barging into someone else’s house?" the security captain barked, glaring at the scene.

"Who? I’m her father!"

The man puffed up, waving his cigarette like a flag. The whole act was pathetic.

Seeing me, the so-called brother spat, "Fine, you set us up."

His words oozed venom, but I just shrugged, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"You’re reading too much into it. This is my house, please leave." I didn’t want a fight. People with nothing to lose will always push those who do.

I kept my voice steady, but my hands shook. I’d never felt so violated in my own home.

"Your house? As long as you’re their kid, you owe them." The man’s true colors showed—he started acting like a total freeloader.

He sprawled on the couch, feet up, daring me to challenge him. The entitlement was unreal.

The security captain looked ready to intervene, but the woman beat him to it, flopping on the floor. "Daughter bullies her parents, wants to beat up her parents..."

She wailed, clutching her chest, putting on a show for the neighbors who’d started to gather.

The captain just stood there, lost for words.

He scratched his head, muttering, "This is way above my pay grade."

"Officer Davis, don’t worry. Let’s go."

I gave him a look, letting him know I’d handle it. He hesitated, then nodded and backed out.

Before leaving, the brother spat on the floor. "Dare to scheme against me? Just wait. I’ll sit on your doorstep and let everyone watch."

His words echoed down the hall—a last, desperate threat.

Outside, Officer Davis, the security captain, advised me to call the police if things got worse.

"It’s useless. They’re shameless. Even if they’re kicked out for a while, they’ll just come back."

He sighed, clapping me on the shoulder. "You let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Everyone else left. Only I stayed, my nails digging into my palm.

I stared at the chaos, anger simmering under my skin. I wouldn’t let them win.

If they wanted to go to extremes, fine. I’d take it up a notch.

Maybe thinking they’d won, the family settled in. Mark tried to expose them online for squatting in my house.

He posted photos, tagged the local news, and within hours, Facebook and Reddit were ablaze. Neighbors pointed and whispered whenever they saw them.

But it didn’t faze them—their skin was thick as leather.