The judge was a stern woman with reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She listened to both sides – Margaret stammering indignantly about family rights, and me calmly explaining how we had ended up on the street.
“Ms. Margaret,” the judge finally said, “you had no right to change the locks or evict the rightful owners from their property. I am issuing an immediate order for you to vacate the premises and return all keys to Ms. Catherine before the end of the day.”
Margaret’s face contorted. “But that’s my son’s house!”
“Which he legally left to his wife,” the judge clarified. “This court does not recognize ‘but I am his mother’ as a valid legal argument, Ms. Margaret.”
