“He’s crazy,” Patricia whispered, her voice barely carrying over the dying alarm. “I had nothing to do with this.”

Mark stopped struggling for a brief second, his head snapping toward his mother.

“Mom!” he roared.

“Quiet, Mark,” Sheriff Miller said, pushing Mark’s head down as they reached the threshold of the front porch. “You’re under arrest for carrying a concealed weapon, reckless endangerment, and attempted arson.”

“She set me up!” Mark screamed, pointing his chin toward me. “She’s trying to steal my property!”

Thomas Bell stepped forward, his leather briefcase held tightly in his left hand.

He unzipped the main compartment with a slow, deliberate scrape of metal.

He pulled out a thick packet of white documents bound by a blue legal backer.

“This is not your property, Mr. Taylor,” Thomas said.

His voice was entirely devoid of emotion, like a judge reading a routine docket.

“What is that?” Mark hissed, his face pressed against the doorframe as Deputy Vance held him.

“This is a temporary restraining order and an emergency order of eviction,” Thomas said.

He held the papers out, letting the cold wind flutter the edges.