My name is Lucas, I’m 32, and this is the story of how my parents gifted my sister the house I spent years paying for, and how months later, they tried to take something else from me, something I worked for with every ounce of strength I had left.
It all started about seven years ago. My parents, Harold and Denise, were in a tough financial spot. They had always been hardworking people—my dad a mechanic, my mom a receptionist—but life has a way of piling on bills faster than you can keep up. Their mortgage had slipped behind, and the bank was breathing down their necks with foreclosure notices.
