"Of course!" His voice was warm, immediate. "You put so much heart into that place, Miss Sarah. The whole team remembers. What's wrong—plumbing? Wiring? Need some repairs?"
"No repairs." I cut straight to the point. "I need your team to restore the apartment to its original state. Before you touched it."
A pause. "I'm not sure I follow."
"Strip it. Everything I installed—gone."
Silence stretched for several seconds.
"Miss Sarah, that means tearing a fully renovated, high-end apartment down to bare concrete. You supervised every detail. Spent a fortune making it perfect." His voice dropped. "Why would you destroy it?"
I gripped the phone tighter. "Personal reasons."
A breath. Then, leaving no room for argument: "One requirement. Start tomorrow. Everything gone in forty-eight hours. Standard rate, plus overtime and a hardship bonus."
He sighed—the professional in him taking over. "Alright. If that's what you want. We'll be there first thing."
"Good. I'll meet you there."
I hung up, wired the deposit, and messaged work for emergency leave.
The next morning, once I confirmed Margaret and the others were well on their way to their vacation, I headed to the apartment.