Her face turned red. “You’re being ridiculous.”
I smiled sweetly. “Am I?”
She stormed off, muttering under her breath, but I could tell the cracks were starting to show.
Then the final step. The real kicker.
The formal notice.
Exactly 3 weeks after I saw that video, I left a neatly printed letter on the kitchen counter. It was short and to the point.
“Lisa, this is your official 30-day notice to vacate the premises. You will no longer be allowed to reside in this house. Failure to leave will result in legal action. Best, Emily.”
I made sure she found it.
I waited in my room, listening, until I heard her pick up the paper.
Silence.
Then: “What is this?”
I walked out casually. “Oh, that’s just a little notice letting you know it’s time to move on.”
She turned to me, eyes wide. “You’re kicking me out?”
I shrugged. “You said it yourself, Lisa. I’m too dumb to ever kick you out, right?”
Her face went pale.
That’s when the real meltdown began.
Lisa’s face twisted in shock, then anger, then something almost like panic. She gripped the letter in her hands like she could crumple it out of existence.
“You can’t do this,” she sputtered. “This is my home too!”
I crossed my arms, leaning casually against the counter. “No, Lisa. It’s my home. I own it. I pay for it. And you? You don’t contribute a dime.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “This… this is a joke, right? You’re messing with me.”
I just tilted my head, waiting.
Lisa’s hands clenched at her sides. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“You’re an adult,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
Her mouth opened and closed like she wanted to argue, but she had nothing.
She knew it.