The judge considered the evidence.
Temporary orders were entered concerning access, preservation of property, and restrictions on further unauthorized encumbrances while the dispute proceeded.
The precise possession arrangements were addressed under the applicable family and property laws.
No police officer simply handed me a house because my name appeared on a phone screen.
But the court did not ignore the evidence either.
The path back to my home was being established lawfully.
I left the courthouse exhausted.
Yet for the first time since that night on the twenty-ninth floor, I felt something I’d nearly forgotten.
Control over my own decisions.
***
Six weeks after the lockout, I returned to Unit 2902.
Not alone.
Monica was present.
A licensed locksmith attended under the lawful arrangements.
An inventory professional helped document the property.
Adrian had already relocated under the temporary orders.
Marjorie was no longer there.
When the elevator doors opened, my stomach tightened.
