I worked myself to the bone to buy my dream home, only for my husband’s family to waltz in and claim it as their own without so much as a warning. But they forgot one important detail: I paid for this house, and I wasn’t about to let them take over.
I worked hard. Long shifts. Extra hours. Sleepless nights.
Every dollar I saved was another step closer to my dream — a real home. A place where I could finally breathe, where my kids could run in a backyard instead of playing in a cramped living room.
