My Family Had Me Thrown Out of My Own House

way. My coffee suddenly tasted like metal.

“No.”

“Any chance you agreed to that?”

“No.”

“Good, because the bank is going to want to hear that with less swearing.”

I sat at my kitchen island in my condo in Evanston and stared at the fruit bowl I’d forgotten to fill. Just a banana gone brown and one lemon hard as a rock.

An LLC.

My mother, who once asked me continue reading …