Chapter 2

The contract signing went off without a hitch. The buyers were a middle-aged couple who ran a clothing business. They seemed straightforward and easy to deal with.

They are very satisfied with the house. The only question they had was the price.

"Ms. Wells, you're selling this house for so little. Is there something we should know about?" the buyer, Arthur Fletcher, asked, choosing his words carefully.

I shook my head, keeping my expression calm. "It's a personal reason. I need some cash to tide me over. The house itself is in perfect condition. You can check it out anytime," I said.

Mabel chimed in, "Mr. Fletcher, don't worry. I've checked out everything about this house. It's all clean and above board.

"Ms. Wells is selling in good faith, and you're buying in good faith. That's fate bringing you together."

Arthur and his wife, Vivian Fletcher, exchanged a glance and didn't ask any more questions. Business folks cared about efficiency and didn't bother poking into other people's business.

We signed the contract and agreed to meet at the real estate office in three days to handle the title transfer, with the payment to be made in full that same day.

As I stepped out of the real estate office, the sunlight was almost blinding. I pulled out my phone and saw a dozen missed calls, all from my parents.

Guess Lucas and Laura couldn't get a hold of me, so they called my folks instead. I called back.

"Irene, where have you been? Lucas said you ran away from home, and we couldn't reach you. I was worried sick." My mom's anxious voice burst through the phone the moment I answered.

"I'm okay, Mom. I'm at a hotel, sorting some things out," I replied.

"Did you and Lucas have a fight? His mom said you were disrespectful and gave her a hard time—" my mom said.

"Mom, do you really believe whatever Lucas tells you?"

My mom paused.

"Laura made him lock me out of the house and tried to force me to hand over my paycheck."

"What?" My mom's voice shot up. "How could they do that to you? That house is yours. You worked your tail off to buy it."

"So I'm getting a divorce and selling the house."

There was a long silence on the other end. After a while, my dad's calm voice finally came through. "Irene, are you sure about this?"

"I am."

"Then go ahead," my dad said, his tone full of support. "Your mom and I raised you so you wouldn't have to suffer in someone else's house.

"Money can always be earned again, and even if you lose your house, you'll always have a home with us. Don't be scared."

My eyes burned with unshed tears. I took a deep breath, pushing down the urge to cry. "I know, Dad."

After I hung up, any lingering doubts I had were gone. The next three days passed uneventfully, calm on the surface.

Lucas and his family probably figured I was giving them the cold shoulder to force a compromise, so they stopped pestering me, most likely thinking I'd run out of money and options and come crawling back on my own.

What they didn't know was that I was dismantling their so-called safe haven, piece by piece.

*****

On the day of the title transfer, I met Mabel, Arthur, and Vivian at the real estate office. Everything went off without a hitch.

When the clerk handed the new deed to Arthur, I knew that the house I'd lived in for five years was, from a legal standpoint, no longer mine.

My phone pinged with a bank transfer alert. A string of numbers appeared on the screen, showing my balance. I slipped my phone back into my bag, my face giving nothing away.

Mabel smiled at Arthur and Vivian. "Congratulations. I'll take you over to the house now. Some of the previous owner's things are still there, so you might need to handle that yourselves."

"No problem," Vivian said, grinning from ear to ear. "We don't like the old decor anyway. We're planning to rip everything out and redo it from scratch and hire someone to clear out whatever's left inside."

I gave them a nod. "Mabel, I'll leave the rest in your hands," I said.

"Don't worry, Ms. Wells," Mabel said, winking at me. "I'll make sure everything's handled perfectly."

I didn't go with them. I had no interest in watching that inevitable farce play out, so I called a cab and headed back to the hotel.

On the way, I sent Lucas one last message from a burner number. [Lucas, your mom was right. When a woman has money, she starts thinking for herself and gets restless.

[So I traded all my cash for a house. Oh, wait. Now I've cashed it out again. Hope you enjoy living there.]

After sending it, I pulled out the temporary SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it into a trash can by the side of the road.

From today on, I was free.

I could picture Mabel right now, with the spare key, showing the new owners to the door I'd never set foot in again.

Inside, Laura was probably stretched out on the couch, watching TV and badmouthing me as the ungrateful woman. Lucas was likely in his room, glued to his game, thinking I'd soon come begging to them.

The real drama was about to kick off.

*****

I sat in the car, parked on the side of the road across from the neighborhood. My phone was on speaker, resting on the center console. The screen showed an active call with Mabel.

"Ms. Wells, I'm here. I'll open the door in a sec." Mabel's voice comes through the speaker.

"Okay, don't hang up," I replied.

I lean back in my seat, staring out the window. From the phone, I hear the clinking of keys. Then the sound of metal sliding into a lock.

"Jeez, why is the TV so loud?" Mabel complained.

Soap opera dialogue drifted in from the background along with the crunching sound of someone munching on nuts.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" Laura shouted, her voice suddenly blasting over the TV. "Get out. Who let you in? Somebody catches the thief."

There was a chaotic shuffle of footsteps.

"Hey, lady, calm down. We're not thieves," Mabel said, her voice steady.

"Who are you? You unlocked my door and barged in. How is that okay?"

"Lucas, where are you? Come out here. There's a thief in the house," Laura shouted.

The bedroom door opened. "What's going on, Mom?" Lucas called out, his voice groggy and still half-asleep.

"They unlocked the door with a key," Laura yelled, pointing at them.

"What are you doing here?" Lucas asked.

"We're here to reclaim the property," Mabel replied.

There was a brief silence on the phone.

"What do you mean, taking back the house? This is my home." Lucas raised his voice.

"It used to be your house, but not anymore," Mabel said, pausing. "Ms. Wells, the previous owner, has already sold it to Mr. Fletcher."

"Bullshit," Laura screamed. "This is my son's house. What right does she have to sell it?"

"Look, the property deed only has Ms. Wells's name on it. It's her personal property," Mabel said.

"She married into our family, so this house belongs to us. If she thinks about selling it, I'll break her legs," Laura yelled.

"That's your family business. Right now, this house belongs to me," Arthur cut in.

"Here's the deed. Look closely," Arthur said, tapping the document.

The sound of papers rustling filled the room.

"Lucas, look at this. What does it say? I can't read it," Laura yelled.

There was a long silence.

"Lucas, say something," Laura pressed.

Lucas's voice shakes. "Mom, it doesn't say Irene anymore."

"What? No way. That bitch is up to something. This is a fake. I'm calling the cops." Laura started smashing things.

Glass shattered in the background, loud through the phone.

"Go ahead, call the cops," Arthur scoffed. "Let the police see who's actually trespassing."

"Arthur, stop wasting your time talking to them," Vivian snapped. "You've got one hour to pack up your things and get the hell out. If you don't, I'll have someone dump all your stuff downstairs."

"Don't you dare touch my stuff." Laura threw a tantrum. "I'm not going anywhere. If you want me out, you'll have to drag my dead body out."

"Fine. Mabel, call the movers. And get property management involved too," Arthur ordered.

On the other end of the line, chaos had erupted. Laura was crying and screaming. Lucas was stammering. Mabel was on another call. Arthur was shouting demands.

I was sitting in the car, listening to everything happening. My fingers tapped on the steering wheel. Now the real drama began.