The next day, we drove to Mandy’s apartment together.
She opened the door with puffy eyes and an annoyed expression.
“Again?” she said. “Can we not drag this out? It was a party, not a crime.”
I looked her in the eye.
“We’re filing a lawsuit,” I said.
She froze. “You’re joking.”
“You can’t do that. We’re family.”
“No,” I said. “You lied to gain access to our house. You rented it out without permission. You let strangers in. That’s illegal.”
Her face went pale.
“You can’t do that. We’re family.”
I pulled out my phone.
“We have cameras,” I said. “You know that. They recorded every person who came into the house. Every car. We can pull the footage. We can find the people who were there. We can call the police. We can talk to a lawyer. This doesn’t have to stay a family drama.”
“You’re really going to let her threaten me like this?”
She stared at me, then turned to Dave like he was her lifeline.
“You’re really going to let her threaten me like this?” she said. “You’re my brother.”
He didn’t move.
“You put my kids’ safety at risk,” he said quietly. “You lied to us. You sold our house for a night. Why exactly should we protect you?”Tears spilled over.
“I didn’t think it would be such a big deal,” she sobbed. “I needed the money. I’m drowning.”
“You’re never setting foot in our house again.”
“You could have asked,” I said. “You could have been honest. Instead you went behind our backs.”
Dave exhaled.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “You’re never setting foot in our house again. Ever. You will hire professional cleaners. Not a friend. Not you. An actual company. You’ll pay for all the damage. If we find anything missing, you’ll pay for that too.”
“And if I don’t?” she asked, glaring through her tears.
“Then we move forward with the lawsuit,” I said. “And involve the police if we need to.”
“Those are the terms.”
She started bargaining. Saying we were ruining her life. Saying we’d regret this.
I was done.
“Those are the terms. Take them or leave them.”
She took them.
Two days later, a cleaning crew showed up at our door with industrial supplies and serious faces.
One of them glanced around and said, “Rough party?”
They worked for hours.
“You have no idea,” I said.
They worked for hours. Scrubbed the sticky floors. Steam-cleaned the couch. Vacuumed up glass. Disinfected everything.
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