About a year ago, I bought my late grandma’s house at a discounted price from my dad. It was a simple home with a finished basement that included its own entrance, two bedrooms, and a small kitchen. Since the basement was empty, I decided to rent it out to someone trustworthy.

My best friend Jake mentioned his younger brother, Tyler, was moving to the city for a teaching job but was struggling financially. I offered Tyler the basement for only $650 a month, including utilities — a huge deal for the area. At first, everything went smoothly. Tyler paid on time, was polite, and even baked me banana bread once.

Things took a turn when Tyler discovered that I owned the house. He became upset, accusing me of profiting off him and “tricking” him, even though it was clearly stated in the lease. I explained that his rent barely covered part of my costs, but he refused to believe me. From then on, he avoided me, stomped around angrily, and ignored my attempts to talk.

When I gave him notice before entering the unit for inspection, Tyler claimed I had violated his privacy. He then announced he was moving out, but not before making a mess of the basement and creating tension in the house. Finally, he packed his things and left, throwing one last comment about “karma.” As I stood in the quiet house, I realized that next time, I’d rent to someone with no personal connections — and make sure they truly understood what a fair deal they were getting.

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