“Your forty-eight hours are up, Gloria,” I said.

“This is my house,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the door. “My grandfather built this family’s name. You cannot throw me out.”

“Your son used this house as collateral for three different fraudulent loans,” I said. “The bank foreclosed, and I bought the debt. It is my house.”

Two uniform deputies walked up the steps behind me.

“Ma’am,” the lead deputy said to Gloria. “We have a court order for your eviction. Please step aside.”

Gloria looked at the deputies, then at the moving vans, and finally at me.

“You did this,” she hissed, her fingers trembling. “You planned this whole thing.”

“I only uncovered what Graham was doing,” I said calmly. “He did this to you. And you let him do it because you were too proud to look at the truth.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” she cried, her voice cracking. “All my money is gone. Graham took everything.”

“That is no longer my concern,” I said.

The deputies stepped past her into the grand foyer.

Behind them, four movers in gray uniforms began carrying in empty cardboard boxes.