Chapter 4
Names, employee numbers, family relations, move-in dates, eligibility review records—every entry was cold and precise.
I calmly tapped away at the keyboard, sorting through each entry one by one according to the Employee Housing Management Regulations.
Family members of former employees, overage children of deceased staff, and ex-family members of divorced employees—one name after another was entered into a newly created document.
The document was titled: Proposed List of Residents to Be Removed for Ineligibility.
It didn't take long before I found that familiar name—Amber Pearce.
Listed as: Mother of Frederick Palmer, currently living with Sienna Roberts.
I looked at the name "Sienna Roberts" and felt like I was seeing a stranger.
After I divorced Frederick, Amber no longer had the right to stay here for free.
Both Amber and Frederick were just tag-along relatives in this home.
The ownership, and all the perks that came with it, depended entirely on me.
Now, that connection was gone.
I kept a straight face as I added "Amber Pearce" to the very end of the removal list.
I didn't feel a thing the whole time.
There was no sense of satisfaction, no trace of hesitation.
I was simply carrying out a task long overdue.
I packed up the removal list and all the handover documents, then sent them off to my replacement, David Harper.
That afternoon, David Harper knocked on my office door and walked in.
He was a young guy, new to the job, and very diligent.
"Sienna, I've looked over all the handover documents. Everything's fine," he said.
He paused, a flicker of surprise and hesitation crossing his face.
"But... is Amber, Frederick's mom, on this removal list?" David asked.
Frederick was also part of our organization, but he worked in a minor, peripheral department.
David knew Frederick, and he was aware of my relationship with him.
I looked up and met his gaze calmly.
"Yes," I replied.
"Sienna, is this really okay?" David hesitated, concern in his voice. "It's just... she's Frederick's mom. What if something goes wrong..."
I get why he's worried.
Nobody wanted to ruffle feathers in a place where connections meant everything.
"David," I said, cutting him off. "We're with the Government Offices Administration.
"Our job is to enforce the organization's regulations and protect its state-owned assets from being encroached upon.
"Everyone on this list has been thoroughly vetted and no longer qualifies for residence. Every decision we make must follow established rules and legal requirements."
My voice stayed calm, but every word rang with authority.
I added, "If you think there's an issue with this list, just let me know. We can review each entry together. If there's nothing wrong with the list, then there's only one thing left to do."
I looked him straight in the eye, enunciating each word, "We stick to the rules."
David looked at me.
There was no anger or bitterness in my eyes—just a cool, businesslike calm.
He froze for a few seconds, then straightened up, his face turning serious and full of respect.
"I understand, Sienna." He nodded firmly.
"I'll go take care of it now, Sienna. I'll make sure everything's by the book," David said.
He turned and left, his stride firm and confident.
I leaned back in my chair, watching the world outside the window.
The sky was growing darker, and city lights flickered on one after another.
I knew that from this moment on, the wheels of payback were already turning, quietly behind the scenes.
And this was only the beginning.
It would silently build into a storm strong enough to tear down everything Amber ever took pride in.
And I would be the one to press the button.
Sometimes, sticking to procedural justice could be even more devastating than personal revenge.
It was the seventh day after the divorce, a Monday—just another ordinary workday.
Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling across Amber's newly laid wool carpet.
She was lounging on the couch, chatting away with a new matchmaker, her voice so loud that the whole hallway could hear her.
"Oh, Phoebe, let me tell you, Frederick is one in a hundred," Amber boasted. "As for what I want in a daughter-in-law, it's not much.
"First, her family should be well-off. Preferably an only child, with parents who have pensions and can help out the young couple.
"Second, she should have a decent job, not some gig where she's always out and about, showing her face everywhere.
"And most importantly, she needs to be caring, knows how to look after people. Not like that last one, cold and stiff as a piece of wood."
When she said "that last one," her voice dripped with contempt and disdain.
She was talking about me.
Right when Amber was bragging about her dream daughter-in-law, the doorbell suddenly rang.
Amber scowled, clearly annoyed.
"Who is it?" she snapped.