The man with the badge moved forward a step. “Ma’am, I am Deputy Ramirez with the county sheriff’s office. We are here regarding a civil matter and a formal complaint filed in your name.”
Diane pushed forward, her voice dripping with artificial offense. “The Sheriff? For what? This is a private residence.”
Deputy Ramirez didn’t even look at her. His attention remained on me, professional and focused. “Ms. Carter, are you currently safe? Do you require us to intervene right now?”
The question affected me in a way I hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t that I felt I was in immediate physical peril, but rather that nobody in that house had asked about my well-being in years. I swallowed hard.
“I’m safe,” I replied. “But yes. Please, come inside.”
Marcus tried to shove past Diane. “No, you can’t just—this is my house!”
The deputy looked at him briefly. “Sir, do you possess any proof of ownership for this property?”
Marcus opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out.
From behind him, Diane tried to seize control of the narrative. “This is all just ridiculous. She is being completely hysterical because we asked for a simple family vacation. We are a family, after all.”
The woman with the clipboard stepped into the living room, her eyes taking in the surroundings like she had seen this exact scenario a thousand times. “I am Ms. Bennett. I am with the county housing and financial protections office. Ms. Carter, we have received the documentation you submitted regarding the misuse of identity, unauthorized debt, and threats of eviction.”
