When her landlord told Nancy and her three daughters to vacate their rental home for a week, Nancy thought that things couldn’t get much worse.
But an unanticipated meeting with the landlord’s brother revealed a shocking betrayal.It’s not much, but our house belongs to us.
The floors creak with every step, and the paint in the kitchen is peeling so badly that I’ve started calling it “abstract art.”
But it’s home. With their little gestures and giggles, my kids Lily, Emma, and Sophie make it feel that way and remind me why I put in so much effort.
I was constantly thinking about money. My job as a waiter barely covered our expenditures and rent. There was no backup plan or safety net.
If something went wrong, I wasn’t sure what we would do.The phone rang the next day as I was hanging out to dry my clothes.”Hello?” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.
Nancy, it’s Peterson.His voice caused my stomach to tighten. Hi, Mr. Peterson. Is everything in its proper place?”I need you out of the house for a week,” he said, as casually as if I were requesting to take care of his plants.
