The appraisal came in low. Sixty-two thousand dollars low. On a house that had three comparable sales within a quarter mile, all within the last four months, all supporting our price. The appraiser used a comp from a completely different neighborhood, across the highway, backing up to a commercial strip mall. When my buyer's lender called to ask why, the appraiser said the houses were quote similar in style unquote. Similar in style. They're both two-story colonials. You know what else is a two-story colonial? Half the houses in this entire county. My sellers had already bought their next house. Already moved most of their furniture. The wife is eight months pregnant and they needed to close before the baby came because her maternity leave was unpaid and they couldn't carry two mortgages. We disputed it. Sent a twelve-page rebuttal with photos, tax records, everything. The appraiser adjusted his value by eight thousand dollars. Eight. Out of sixty-two. The buyers couldn't make up the gap. Sellers couldn't drop the price because they needed every dollar for their down payment on the new place. Deal fell apart three days before closing. Found out later the appraiser had been in the business for six weeks. Six weeks. And he's making calls that blow up people's lives. Meanwhile I've been doing this for eleven years and I couldn't do a single thing about it. Couldn't appeal to anyone, couldn't go over his head, nothing. The sellers had to rent their old house back from the new buyers for two months. Cost them nine thousand dollars.