I Heard My Parents Planning to Sell My Apartment Behind My Back

I was coming home early that evening, carrying a small box of old books I had found at a local market. The apartment hallway was quiet, except for the sound of my mother’s voice coming from the kitchen.
At first, I wasn’t paying attention.
Then I heard my name.
“We’ll wait until she leaves for London next month,” my mother said calmly. “Once she’s gone, we can move her things out and put the apartment up for sale.”
I froze.
My father sighed heavily. “Are you sure she won’t fight us?”
“She trusts us too much,” my mother replied. “Besides, Chloe needs the money more.”
Chloe.
My younger sister. The family favorite.
The same sister who had already failed three businesses in two years. The same sister my parents kept rescuing while expecting me to stay silent and “understanding.”
I stood there in complete shock.
The apartment they were talking about wasn’t theirs.
It belonged to me.
My grandfather had left it to me before he passed away. He used to tell me, “No matter what happens in life, you’ll always have a place that’s yours.”
Apparently, my parents had other plans.
I quietly stepped away from the kitchen before they noticed me. That night, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t confront anyone.
Instead, I made a phone call.
The next morning, I met with a lawyer.