My mother-in-law blocked the entrance to my new apartment and screamed that her son had bought it for her, ordering me to leave.

And when they tried to take it, I did not scream.

I did not beg.

I did not debate ownership with a woman wearing my initials on her robe.

I called security.

I called my lawyer.

I opened the drawer.

I kept the proof.

And when Evelyn called me trash, I took the trash out.