Chapter 3

I stared at the photo for a few seconds.

Then Michael sent a voice message. "Since you've moved out, we can't leave the room empty. Mom's planning to have my cousin move in. I'll box up whatever you left behind for now."

I didn't reply.

There were still some clothes for different seasons and a backup laptop left in the room.

There wasn't any company confidential info on the laptop, but it did have records of my pre-marriage investments.

Lucia was so eager to get that door open. She probably had other reasons besides letting her cousin stay.

I called up property management. "I'm related to the owner, and I've still got some personal stuff in my old apartment. Someone's about to break into the bedroom. Can you keep the hallway camera footage for me?"

Once they made a note of it, I got in touch with a moving company and the local police.

Once I'd taken care of everything, I stood in my new living room and pulled open the curtains. Sunlight flooded in.

There were no orders from Lucia, no stony stares from James, and no endless refrain from Michael. "Just bear it."

I snapped a photo of the living room and sent it to the admin department to confirm everything was in order.

A few minutes later, Michael called. "Did you call property management?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Come on, it's family opening a door. Did you really have to get property management involved?"

"That's my stuff in there."

"You're my wife now. Why are you still drawing lines between us?"

I fired back, "Then how come you don't have to hand over 70% of your salary?"

There was a two-second pause on the other end, then he said, "It's not the same for me."

"How is it different?"

"I'm a man."

He spat it out in a rush, as if he'd finally found something to hide behind. "I'm the one who has to provide for the family, deal with work stuff, and look after my parents down the line."

I glanced at the empty dining room. "For the past two years, I've been paying for most of the bills at home. Who have you actually been looking after?"

His voice dropped. "Claire, why are you being so mean right now? Mom's saving money for us.

"You moved out over something like this and called property management to keep your own family out. Were you waiting for a chance to leave?"

"You were the ones who told me to leave."

"That was something we said in anger."

"It's not my job to figure out which of your words actually count."

I hung up.

*****

At 9:30 a.m., the moving company called me back.

The movers had already arrived at the Shaw residence.

I joined the inventory check via video call.

The bedroom door was already open.

Lucia was standing inside, clutching my document pouch.

As soon as she realized she was on camera, she quickly tossed the pouch onto the bed. "Who let these people in?"

The moving company manager held up the order. "Ms. Harrison asked us to move the appliances and personal stuff that belong to her."

Lucia stood in front of the fridge. "You're not taking a thing. Anything that comes into my house belongs to me."

The officer stood there, asking both sides to show their receipts.

I forwarded all my receipts and payment records right away.

Every single thing had a clear purchase date and payment history attached.

Lucia, on the other hand, didn't have a shred of proof she'd paid for anything.

She jabbed a finger at me on the screen. "That's my son's wife. Isn't it her job to buy things for the family?"

The officer made it clear right then and there. Being married didn't mean she could take my stuff whenever she wanted.

If they couldn't work it out, the movers would stop, and we'd have to settle it in court.

As soon as Lucia heard the word "lawsuit," her whole attitude changed.

She couldn't afford a lawyer, and the last thing she wanted was for this mess to get out to the relatives. "Go ahead, and take them then. Who wants your junk appliances anyway?"

The movers started dismantling the AC. The fridge, washing machine, and TV were hauled out of the living room.

James sat slumped on the couch, his face going ashen. "Claire, you've really gone too far. Don't think about ever coming back to the Shaw residence."

Claire shot back through the video. "Relax. I'm not coming back. And by the way, the kitchen stays put. Depreciation value is 6,300 dollars.

"Transfer the money by 5 p.m., or I'll submit the payment records and demand a refund for the renovation costs."

James shot to his feet. "You really dare ask for money?"

"It's my money. Why shouldn't I?" I shot back.

Michael grabbed the phone. "Claire, that's enough. How am I supposed to face the neighbors after what you've done?"

The camera moved, and I saw a bunch of neighbors standing outside the door.

Lucia always told the neighbors I was living in their house without paying a single dollar.

Now, with the movers taking out the appliances and the receipts laid out on the table, all her stories fell apart.

One neighbor whispered, "So she really bought all this stuff herself?"

Another added, "Throw her out but still want to keep her stuff? Who does that?"

Lucia rushed over and slammed the door shut.

The neighbors' chatter spilled in from the hallway.

Her face flushed from pale to bright red, and her fingers trembled uncontrollably.

*****

At 4:58 p.m., I got a transfer of 6,300 dollars.

The note was short and to the point. [Kitchen renovation cost depreciation.]

I confirmed the payment and sent the movers my new address.

By evening, all the furniture and appliances had been delivered to Vertex Lofts.

The living room still felt a bit empty, but it was finally starting to feel like home.

I'd set my laptop down in the study when the doorbell rang.

Michael was standing outside.

He took in the spacious living room, glanced out at the river through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and stood there, lost for words. "Whose place is this?"

"The company gave it to me," I replied.

"So, how big is this place?"

"1,800 square feet."

He froze, completely stunned.

Lucia video-called at the right moment.

Michael picked up like he was grabbing a lifeline, swinging the camera straight to the living room.

Lucia froze for a second, then immediately jumped in, "Wow, this place is huge. Why not let your cousin move in with you?"

I took the phone from Michael. "No."

Lucia raised her voice. "Two empty rooms? That's a waste."

I pressed the video intercom by the door. "This is my house, so what I say goes."

With that, I handed the phone back to Michael. "Now, please leave."

Just then, another woman's voice came from outside the door. "Michael, Aunt Lucia told me to bring my luggage straight over. Which room should I stay in?"