“Along with the petition for dissolution of marriage, you are being served with a temporary restraining order,” Jennifer said.

“A restraining order?” Brent’s voice cracked. “In my own home?”

“This is not your home, Brent,” Jennifer replied.

She pulled a single sheet of paper from her folder and held it under the light of the foyer chandelier.

“The Redwood Crest property is held entirely in Tessa’s name, purchased prior to your marriage with non-marital funds,” Jennifer said.

Brent’s eyes widened as he looked at the document.

“We have also filed an emergency motion for exclusive occupancy of the residence,” she continued. “Which the judge signed three hours ago.”

“This is a mistake,” Brent said, his chest rising and falling quickly under his winter coat. “I have a right to be here. My mother said—”

“Your mother does not own this house, Brent,” I said.

“She told me we were partners in this,” he muttered, his face turning a dark, mottled red.

“You were partners in trying to take it from me,” I said.

Jennifer reached into her folder and pulled out a second packet of paper, clipped with a heavy metal clamp.