“Did you do this?”
“Do what?”
“Don’t play stupid, Margaret. We’re being evicted. The building sold and the new owner is restructuring. This is you. I know it’s you.”
“I don’t own any buildings, Vanessa. I live in a motel.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? Check the deed. It’s public record.”
She hung up.
I sat on the edge of the bed in Room 12 with my hands shaking.
Not from fear.
From something else.
Something that felt a lot like power.
The fallout came faster than I expected.
Three days after the eviction notice, Robert called. His voice sounded flat. Defeated.
“I lost my job.”
“What happened?”
“My biggest client went bankrupt. They owed us sixty thousand. The company’s doing layoffs. I’m out.”
I did not say anything.
“Mom, we’re in trouble. Vanessa’s freaking out. We have thirty days to move and I have no income.”
