Melissa leaned close. “We’re planning a barbecue tomorrow night,” she said brightly. “About thirty people. Brandon’s friends, some locals we met, maybe a few business contacts. This place is perfect for entertaining.”
Thirty people. In my home. Without my permission.
“That sounds like quite a party,” I said evenly.
“It’ll be amazing,” Melissa chirped. “We’re really going to put this place on the map.”Brandon nodded enthusiastically. “Networking,” he said, like it was a sacred word. “Important people. This house is perfect for making connections.”
I watched them buzz with excitement, using my space like a stage.
I didn’t argue.
I let them get comfortable. Let them settle into entitlement like it was a warm bath.
Because the more comfortable they got, the more careless they became.
And careless people leave evidence.
That night, in the small upstairs guest room, I listened to laughter downstairs echoing through the house I bought to escape noise.
I smiled in the dark.
Tomorrow would bring the first surprise.
Part 3
By morning, my kitchen had become a command center for other people’s needs.