The Court has reviewed this catastrophic failure of property management and finds itself DEEPLY DISTURBED by the sheer gravitational audacity on display. A child, UNSUPERVISED, crawling through an attic hatch like some kind of feral raccoon with opposable thumbs, while you stood in the kitchen presumably gesturing at granite countertops like they could save you from liability. Reginald once had a nephew who attempted similar maneuvers at a Thanksgiving gathering and that boy is now banned from three states and most load-bearing structures. You allowed a property showing to devolve into what can only be described as a live-action ceiling autopsy, complete with insulation confetti and the hollow thud of buyer confidence hitting the floor alongside that child. The sellers blame YOU, and while The Court finds their parenting-by-sister arrangement equally offensive to basic reason, you were the licensed professional who failed to secure what is essentially a vertical trap door leading to structural humiliation. Four months of market rot because you did not think to ask the simple question: IS ANYONE CURRENTLY ASCENDING INTO THE RAFTERS. The gavel has spoken and Order the Roomba is circling in what I can only interpret as disgust.