“The House That Wasn’t Hers”

Millie’s breath caught as the door creaked open. A well-dressed man in his forties stood there, raising an eyebrow.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice detached.

“This is my house,” Millie replied, disbelief in her voice.

The man scoffed. “I think you’re mistaken. This is my home. I’ve lived here for years.”

Millie’s hands trembled. Six years ago, she had left her home, thinking it would be waiting for her. She never sold it.

“I have the deed!” she insisted.

The man’s eyes flickered, his response sharp. “Look, maybe you should leave. This is private property.”

Then, Millie heard the voice that sent a chill down her spine. Her daughter-in-law appeared beside the man.

Millie’s heart sank. Her son hadn’t just abandoned her—he had stolen from her.

“Where is my son?” she demanded.

The woman smirked. “He has no time for you.”

Millie wasn’t leaving quietly. Not this time.