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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.

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have to send it to my job,” he said during mediation.

We sat in a conference room with bad lighting and a mediator who had clearly seen everything and been impressed by none of it. Blake looked tired. Less polished. His confidence had become something he had to remember to perform.

“You used my home to support a business lie,” I said.

“I was trying to continue reading …

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