Chapter 4 - The AftermathMonday morning arrived with the bright, unrelenting sunshine typical of an Oklahoma spring.

At the City of Edmond municipal building, the fluorescent lights of the planning and zoning department hummed with their usual Monday-morning desperation. Architects, developers, and local contractors milled around the service counters clutching stacks of blueprints and zoning variances.
I sat at my desk in the corner cubicle, sipping a black coffee, reviewing a routine setback variance for a commercial strip mall on 2nd Street.
At 9:15 a.m., my coworker Bart strolled over, holding a pink slip of paper. He dropped it onto the corner of my desk with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, well, well," Bart murmured, leaning against the divider. "Look who just tried to file an emergency injunction withdrawal and permit cancellation."
I looked up from my monitor. "My dad?"
"Arlin Eubanks in the flesh," Bart chuckled, shaking his head. "He came up to the front counter about ten minutes ago looking like he had aged ten years overnight. He tried to pull the municipal file on the workshop conversion, claiming it was all a clerical error and that he was formally relinquishing any claim to the structure."
"Did you talk to him?"
"Nah, I let Sarah at the front counter handle him," Bart grinned. "She told him that since the property was registered solely under Crystal Ruffin, any cancellation or modification required the signature and notarized consent of the actual owner of record."
I had to suppress a laugh. "And how did he take that?"
"Let's just say he used a word involving a mother and a truck," Bart said cheerfully. "He stormed out muttering something about ungrateful children and corrupt city officials. Honestly, Crystal, you handled that like a mob boss. Dropping the tax-evasion gift letter right over the Easter ham? That is legendary office folklore material."
"It wasn't folklore, Bart. It was survival."
Before Bart could reply, the department supervisor, Director Vance, stepped out of his glass-walled office, clearing his throat.
"Crystal Ruffin? Front desk. You have a visitor."
I frowned, glancing at my watch. "A visitor? Who?"
"Says he's your attorney, Mr. Keller," Vance said. "He has some paperwork regarding an emergency property easement and a cease-and-desist notice for a local address."
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My stomach gave a little flip of satisfaction. My attorney wasn't just handling the workshop boundary; he was formally filing a no-trespassing injunction against my father and sister, ensuring they could never set foot on my property again without facing immediate arrest.
"Thanks, Vance. I'll take it at the front."
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