“Correct.
One hundred eighty-six thousand, four hundred dollars, plus accrued interest.
You gave them until the end of the quarter to repay it.”
“I wasn’t trying to take their house.”
“I know.”
“And the third?”
Fiona’s expression softened.
“That one is from the investment custodian.
It removes Logan and Chelsea as authorized users on the account you established for household expenses.
It also confirms that no additional transfers will be made.”
I looked down at my hands.
For six years, I had allowed myself to be treated like a guest in a house I had helped make possible.
Yet the moment I put boundaries around my own money, the paperwork made it sound almost cold.
Withdrawn.
Revoked.
Demanded.
Terminated.
Words with no room for hurt.
“You’re certain we did this properly?”
I asked.
“Every step was reviewed.
You gave them reasonable notice.
You didn’t empty a joint account.
