Mom said I was being possessive.
Priscilla didn’t even look up from her phone.
I finally reminded them of the facts.
They hadn’t paid for my college.
They hadn’t paid my living expenses after I turned eighteen.
They hadn’t helped with my professional education.
They hadn’t helped me buy my first condo.
They hadn’t contributed to the beach house.
They had even missed my college graduation because Priscilla needed help moving.
I asked them a simple question.
“Why do you think you’re entitled to something you didn’t help me earn?”
Mom cried.
Dad called me ungrateful.
Priscilla stared at her phone.
And that should have been the end of it.
It wasn’t.
The pressure became relentless.
Family messages demanded access to the house.
Mom showed up at my office.
Dad promised Priscilla that she would eventually get a key.
A key to a house he didn’t own.
I changed the locks.
Installed additional security.
And stopped attending family events.
Three months later, my parents sued me.
Their argument was almost unbelievable.
They claimed their financial and emotional support had contributed to my success and therefore entitled them to an interest in the beach property.
Their attorney argued that, as their eldest daughter, I had a moral responsibility to share my success with Priscilla.
The lawsuit wasn’t really about ownership.
At least, that’s how it looked to me.
