My father walked past me into the living room like he owned the place. Jason followed, looking around the house with interest. My mother set the muffins on the table. Then my father opened the folder. Inside was a contract. He slid it across the table toward me.
“Sign this,” he said.
I looked down at the document. It was a property transfer agreement. My house, signed over to Jason. I blinked.
“I don’t understand.”
Jason cleared his throat.
“I’m starting a new business,” he said.
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