“Sign the deed or I’ll sn:a:p your arm right here!” my brother screamed while slamming me against the truck outside Sunset Lavender Co. as our parents watched without emotion.

The seventy-two-hour countdown felt like a ticking time bomb strapped to my chest.

After my mother drove off, leaving the dark threat of forced eviction hanging in the sweet, lavender-scented air, I collapsed onto my porch steps. My phone buzzed relentlessly. It was Garrett, sending aggressive text messages detailing exactly how his lawyers were continue reading …