Chapter 2
Gabriel arrived home later that evening, took one long look at the heavy chain wrapped around the refrigerator, and remained completely silent for several tense seconds. He slowly walked over to my mother, bowing his head in deep embarrassment.
“Please forgive me, Sophia, because this disgusting scene took place under my roof, and I take full responsibility for not enforcing firm boundaries much sooner.”
My mother tried her best to downplay the severity of the situation.
“Please do not start a bitter fight with your own mother on my account, Gabriel.”
Gabriel shook his head in a firm, deliberate motion.
“Remaining quiet just to preserve a fake sense of peace is nothing more than enabling continuous abuse.”
He pulled out his phone and dialed Beatrice’s number immediately. Half an hour later, she marched through the front door, flanked by Lucas, Gabriel’s younger brother, and Lucas’s wife, Chloe.
Chloe stepped into the kitchen, glanced at the padlocked refrigerator, and let out a light, mocking laugh.
“Are you seriously making such a massive scene over a simple padlock?”
Lucas chimed in right away with an arrogant smirk.
“Besides, this is technically Gabriel’s family home, so Sophia needs to accept that she is merely a guest here.”
Gabriel slammed his right palm against the wooden dining table so hard that the glasses rattled.
“This home belongs exclusively to Camila and me because it is registered under our names on the official deed, which means neither you, nor Mom, nor Chloe have any legal right to dictate who eats here.”
Beatrice immediately dabbed at her eyes and began to wail loudly.
“After everything I have ever done for you in this life, your ungrateful wife has managed to turn you completely against your own biological mother.”
Then Chloe uttered a sentence that finally laid bare the hidden motives they had been nursing all along.
“Well, if Sophia is going to cause this much chaotic drama, then she should pack her bags and head back to her little village tomorrow morning.”
My mother quietly stood up from her chair.
“I will leave tomorrow, daughter, because I have no intention of coming between a family.”
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.
“You are not dividing anything, Mom.”
After nearly an hour of nonstop yelling and wild accusations, Beatrice left the premises once again alongside Lucas and Chloe.
The moment the front door clicked shut, Gabriel motioned for me to join him in the kitchen.
“That is the final straw, so we are going to stick strictly to our original plan without any deviations,” he told me firmly.
The house had already been sold verbally, and the formal closing procedures were almost entirely complete. We had purchased a slightly smaller but much better laid-out property closer to Mateo’s new elementary school.
Despite everything, we had never intended to abandon Beatrice to the streets. Gabriel had already located a clean one-bedroom rental apartment located just ten minutes away from a medical clinic, a neighborhood grocery store, and major bus routes. We had planned to cover her full rent for six initial months and continue paying for her monthly medications indefinitely.
We decided to remain tight-lipped about the move until the exact day of the keys handing over. During the following nights, we quietly transferred documents, winter clothes, electronics, and personal heirlooms over to the new property.
My mother assisted us with the packing without asking unnecessary questions.
“Enforce your boundaries firmly, my children, but never act purely out of spite or revenge,” she gently advised us.
The next afternoon, I placed a calm phone call to Beatrice.
“Please come back home, Beatrice, because I have no desire to keep arguing with you.”
Her response confirmed that she mistook my calm tone for total submission.
“That is exactly how things ought to be, because a smart daughter-in-law knows when to stop challenging her husband’s mother.”
She moved back into her room that very afternoon, accompanied once again by Chloe. Over the next few days, I overheard them discussing increasingly absurd home renovation plans, including replacing the dining setup, remodeling the living room, and converting my mother’s bedroom into a playroom for Lucas’s kids.
One evening, I caught Chloe speaking to Beatrice in a low whisper near the hallway.
“Mom, you need to make sure you hold onto this property because Gabriel clearly has another asset, so this house should logically be transferred over to Lucas to keep things fair between brothers.”
Everything suddenly clicked into place for me. Chloe was not acting out of filial loyalty toward my mother-in-law at all. She was aggressively defending a future inheritance that she had already carved up in her imagination.
On the morning scheduled for the final handover of the keys, Gabriel left early to wrap up the closing paperwork with our bank officer. Mateo, my mother, and I were already waiting over at the new house.
At precisely eight twelve in the morning, my phone started vibrating furiously on the kitchen island. The screen displayed Beatrice’s name. I chose not to pick up.
She called again immediately, and then again without stopping. By eight twenty, I had nineteen missed calls logged on my phone screen, which quickly climbed to thirty-five, and then over forty.
Finally, a text message popped up in bold letters.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THAT REALTOR SIGN OUT FRONT?”
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The listing agent had just staked a prominent red sign into the front lawn of our old house that read in big letters: PROPERTY SOLD — FINAL HANDOVER TODAY.
Beatrice attempted to dial my number over fifty times in total, but by the time she gave up, the buyers were already standing at the front porch with their signed contract in hand. The absolute worst of the storm was yet to hit.
