Taken from life. “The mother -in -law promised that the plot would be ours”: now she has been prescribing her to her grandson from a second marriage

Twelve years ago, my husband and I packed our cartons, sold our tight apartment in a block of flats and moved to the countryside. On the plot belonging to his mother. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/c352aa/620x0/1/0/2025/04/05/r81wbszlimvlwtawqlawn1lo7n8chbhwumtid52.jpg" alt = "from life taken." Quot; mother -in -law promised that the plot would be our & quot; styles = "background-color: rgba (156,135,120,1)" > < p > We had dreams & ndash; House, garden & oacute; d, children running barefoot on the grass. And faith in what the mother -in -law was m & > < p > & ndash; It will all be yours someday. I promise. You have my word.

< P >We trusted her. We took a loan for the construction of a house, which & Oacute; Ry stood right next to her old habitat. We added every penny & ndash for years; Foundations, roof, fence, then kitchen, bathroom. It wasn't easy. But we were sure: we are building on our own. There was a promise. < p > Several years have passed. The mother -in -law got married again & ndash; for an elderly gentleman from a neighboring village. She seemed happy. Sometimes she was with us, she drank tea with a granddaughter, she brought eggs from her own henhouse. And never m & oacute; that something was changing.

< p > until that day.

< p > registered letter. Official letter. I froze. Inside & ndash; Information from notary public. The plot, on which our house stands & oacute; was prescribed & Hellip; for a grandson from a second marriage. The boy who sees her once a year. Son Stemphas. Foreign. < p > I thought it was a mistake. That it's a joke. But not & ndash; Everything was lawful. Her signature. Her will. Her decision. < p > Husband palated. For the first time I saw him so devastated. As if someone had pulled his heart. He went to her, he was afraid to talk. He shouted. He cried. He begged. But he only heard:

< p > & ndash; Life is changing. And you have this house anyway. What more do you want ?

< p > What did we want ? justice. Respect. Recognizing that everything we did made sense. That the family means more than the business.

< p > We live in constant fear now. Because the house stands on someone else's land. Because a boy who does not know our history, can kick us out of our history. Because one mother -in -law's decision destroyed something that can no longer be fixed & ndash; trust. < p > and I look at our house every day, at every brick arranged with love, and I ask myself: can you still believe people, even those who & oacute; they swear that they are a family ?~ 60 >