But today, because Mark had trampled on my mother’s honor, the truth had to come out. Mark shook his head violently, refusing to believe it. He screamed hysterically that it was impossible, that he had invested a lot of money in this house, but his shouts were useless. The legal proof was right before his eyes. He was nothing but a freeloader who didn’t know his place. He had lived in the house of the mother-in-law he insulted. He had eaten with the money of the mother-in-law he belittled, and now he was trying to kick out the owner’s own daughter. Mr. Harrison looked at Mark with manifest disgust. He said in a booming voice that Mark didn’t have a single inch of right to this land, and since Mrs.
Vance had bequeathed all her assets to me, the sole owner of this house was now me. With absolute power in my hands, I pointed to the front door, which was wide open. The night wind was beginning to bring a gust of cold air, as if signaling to take out the trash quickly. I said the word I had wanted to say for so long. Get out. The word left my mouth lightly, but with a devastating weight for Mark. I didn’t shout. I spoke with the firmness of a queen giving an order in her own domain. I told Mark and Jessica to get out of my house immediately.
I never wanted to see their faces again. I didn’t want the air of the house my mother had left me to be further contaminated by their breath. Mark tried to resist. He stood up and tried to grab my hand, perhaps to plead or to threaten. I don’t know. But before his dirty fingers could touch my skin, Mr. Harrison’s two bodyguards moved swiftly, grabbing both his arms, twisting them behind his back, and restraining him forcefully. Mark thrashed like a madman, shouting and insulting me, calling me an ungrateful wife, but his screams only sounded like the barking of a trapped dog. The bodyguards dragged Mark by force towards the exit.