Lastly, I called my lawyer. He had been briefed on the situation, thanks to my foresight. We discussed the steps needed to legally evict Emily and her family, to reclaim my home and ensure there were consequences for their actions. With each phone call, the weight on my shoulders lifted slightly, replaced by a growing sense of empowerment.

While waiting for the authorities to arrive, I went about documenting the state of my home. I took detailed photos of the destruction—the ripped cabinets, the relocated toilet, the strewn-about utensils and tools. Each image was a piece of evidence, a testament to the audacity of their actions.