Her cousin—the one she always bragged about being a “hotshot real estate attorney”—turned out to mostly handle DUIs and minor slip-and-falls out of an office wedged between a nail salon and a vape shop.
Even he said no.
Meanwhile, Brandon tried to find a job for the first time in his life.
He discovered that “Content Creator” with no portfolio and a hundred followers doesn’t impress hiring managers.
Sierra’s sorority sisters found out the truth, too. Not because I told them, but because she wouldn’t shut up about it. She’d built her whole image on “rich girl aesthetic.” Designer bags. Brunch. Luxury.
Turns out, a lot of those bags were fake.
Her friends cut her off faster than a bad bang trend.
And through it all, the eviction clock ticked down.
Thirty days. Then twenty.
Then fifteen.
Tracy got desperate.I got the notification while I was on shift at Starbucks.
“Living Room Camera: Motion detected.”
Nothing unusual. We lived with people. Motion happened.
Then another.
“Upstairs Hall Camera: Motion detected.”
Then another.
“Master Closet Camera: Motion detected.”
That one made my stomach twist.