The Attempt to Break the Lock

To make things clear, I put a strong lock on the gate.

One morning I found my youngest son trying to break it with a tool.

“What are you doing?” I asked calmly.

“Nothing, Dad… just checking.”

I didn’t let him continue.

“If anyone in this house doesn’t respect my rules, they’re out. And if they try to force their way in again, I’ll call the police.”

That same afternoon, I called the lawyer.

I asked for an official document. The next day, two officers left the notice on my door: the property could not be entered by anyone but me.

Now it wasn’t a family argument. It was the law.

The Final Betrayal

I thought things would calm down, but the opposite happened.

One night I heard banging on the door. When I went out into the hallway, my two oldest children had broken the lock and were coming in, saying:

“This house belongs to everyone. You can’t keep locking us up.”

I looked at them with a calmness I didn’t expect to have at my age.

“To everyone… or to me?” I asked.

Neither of them answered.

They just stood there, tense, not knowing what to do.

That same night, as I locked my bedroom door from the inside, I decided everything.

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