CHARLOTTE

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion. He smiled, continuing to fiddle with the pen in his hand. His words had struck a nerve deep within me, leaving me uneasy.

“First, you need to tell me why you’re here, Ms. Edwards. Then, I’ll see how I can help. My opinions can wait,” he said, maintaining eye contact as I recounted my experience at the house.

“I want my house back,” I said firmly. He sighed. “It belongs to my family, and I can’t let anyone take it away.”

He set the pen down and leaned forward to pick up a file. “This is all the...