Chapter 3 - The Party Crashing Down**
The front door swung wider, and Khloe appeared in the entryway, dressed in an expensive designer dress that had undoubtedly been purchased with funds stolen from my mother’s allowance. Her eyes widened in sheer panic as she saw the locksmith stepping past Julian with a heavy toolbox and two sheriff’s deputies—who had arrived quietly in a marked patrol car—stepping up behind Harrison. “Natalie? What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?!” Khloe shrieked, rushing down the steps, her voice cracking with hysteria. “You’re humiliating us in front of our friends! People are inside!” Several curious guests parted the sheer curtains from the living room windows, peering out into the driveway with wide eyes, whispering frantically among themselves. “Clear the house,” Harrison instructed the property manager and the deputies. Within minutes, the front door was swarmed. The locksmith didn't hesitate; he immediately detached the smart deadbolt Julian had installed without authorization and replaced it with a secure commercial lock system, effectively cutting off their reentry. Khloe lunged forward, trying to claw past the deputies, but was held back gently yet firmly. “You can’t do this! Mom gave us permission to live here!” Khloe screamed, spinning lies even as her foundation crumbled. “Mom wanted us to have this life!” I stepped up to the edge of the porch, looking down at my sister with absolute pity and disgust. “Mom didn't even know you were siphoning her emergency funds, Khloe. She didn't know you had reduced a 62-year-old woman to scrubbing grease off the patio on her knees while you lived in luxury.” The guests inside, hearing the shouting and the mention of elder abuse and financial fraud, began grabbing their coats and slipping out the side doors, eager to distance themselves from the unfolding disaster. Julian tried to bluff one last time, pointing a shaking finger at Harrison. “We’ll sue you for wrongful eviction! We have tenant rights!” Harrison chuckled coldly, handing Julian a thick packet of papers. “You can try arguing tenant rights to a federal judge after you’ve answered for wire fraud, identity theft, and elder exploitation. Those signatures on the trust transfer requests? They match neither your mother-in-law’s nor Natalie’s. That’s forgery, Mr. Andrews. A felony.”
