Mark carried Lily down the stairs and into the brightly lit kitchen downstairs.
He poured a fresh glass of cold apple juice and handed it to the trembling child.
Lily took small sips while sitting quietly on the high vinyl kitchen chair.
Her tears gradually stopped, but her tiny fingers kept holding Mark's shirt collar.
Brenda walked slowly down the stairs with her green satin shirt rustling softly.
She placed the torn yellow envelope onto the clean granite kitchen counter.
Brenda: You think I am the villain here, don't you?
Mark: You frightened a child over a piece of old paper.
Brenda: It is not just a piece of old paper, Mark.
Mark reached out his hand and picked up the thick legal papers from the counter.
The top page showed an official court stamp from the county probate clerk office.
It was a property transfer document dated nearly fifteen years ago in early spring.
He scanned the black ink lines until his eyes landed on his father's bold signature.
Right next to his father's name was another signature that made his stomach drop.
It was the clear signature of their estranged uncle, Richard Miller.
Mark: Why does Uncle Richard's name appear on our family home deed?
Brenda: Because dad lost this home in a high-stakes poker game years ago.
Mark: That is impossible, dad worked thirty years at the steel mill for this place.
Brenda: Dad signed the house over to pay off his massive gambling debts.
Mark felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as the family truth collapsed around him.
He had spent his entire life savings helping pay the mortgage on this exact house.
Every single paycheck from the auto shop went straight into the home loan bank account.
Mark: If Richard owns the house, why are you holding a secret will?
Brenda: I found this inside the old grandfather clock in dad's bedroom upstairs.
Mark: Were you searching through his personal bedroom while he was asleep?
Brenda: I needed to know if we were going to be evicted next month!
Lily dropped her plastic juice cup onto the floor with a dull thud sound.
Mark bent down to pick up the cup without taking his eyes off his sister.
Mark: Does dad even know that you found these papers today?
Brenda: Dad cannot remember his own name half the time anymore, Mark.
Mark: That does not give you the right to treat this family like dirt.
Brenda: The lawyer is coming here in one hour to inspect the property.
Mark looked out the kitchen window as headlight beams swept across the dark driveway.