I caught my dad on my security camera planning to move my brother into my house while I was on a trip, and when my mom said, “Once everything is here, she will not make a scene. She will just accept it,” I set a trap for them.

Flying out now. Back on the thirteenth. Talk soon.

Her reply came fifteen minutes later.

Safe travels, sweetheart. Twelve days is a long time. Make sure someone checks on your house.

I smiled at the message, assuming it was ordinary parental concern.

At thirty thousand feet somewhere over the Pacific, I closed my eyes and thought about the pitch I would deliver in Singapore.

I had no idea what was happening in my living room back home.

Not yet.

Two days later, after a long day of preparation meetings, I was in my hotel room reviewing slides when the Ring notification came through.

Motion detected.

I opened the app.

And there they were.

My parents.

Inside my house.

After hearing my mother say I would just accept it, I kept watching.

“The basement is perfect for Kyle and Brittany,” she said. “It has its own bathroom. Plenty of space. Myra barely uses it anyway.”