MY FATHER THREW A THANKSGIVING PLATE AT THE WALL BEHIND MY HEAD WHEN I REFUSED TO GIVE MY BROTHER MY STUDIO, BUT WHEN A SHARD CUT MY HAND AND MY NIECE SAW THE BLOOD, I FINALLY REALIZED THEY HAD JUST GIVEN ME EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED.

A grim, humorless smile touched the corners of my mouth.

“Let them try,” I said softly.

Sarah frowned, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “Maya, you don’t understand. Your father still has friends on the county zoning board. They think they can manipulate the paperwork.”

“They can’t manipulate anything anymore,” I replied, walking over to my desk and turning the monitor toward her.

On the screen was a scanned copy of a formal restraining order and a notice of immediate occupancy protection, stamped digitally by the county magistrate twenty minutes ago.

“What is that?” Sarah asked, stepping closer.

“That is an emergency protective order granted based on last night’s aggravated assault charge, combined with my grandfather’s recorded land trust,” I explained, my finger tapping the glass screen. “Because my father is officially charged with a violent felony committed on this property against the primary legal resident, the court has issued a strict stay-away order covering the entire parcel—including the main house and every square foot of surrounding land. The second he posts bail, he is legally barred from coming within five hundred yards of me or this building. If he steps foot on this driveway, deputies will drag him back to a jail cell before his feet touch the gravel.”

Sarah stared at the monitor, her mouth slightly open. The color drained from her face, replaced by a profound, shuddering wave of relief.

“You... you locked him out completely,” she whispered.

“I locked him out,” I corrected gently, looking right at her. “Not you, Sarah. Not the kids. If you want to grab your bags, pack the children, and stay in the guest room above the workshop until you find a safe place to land, the door is open. You’ve never been my enemy.”