Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
I rolled the silver dial of my wristwatch back and forth against my skin, the small clicks counting out the seconds. “I only brought in the grocery circulars and my bank notice. They are on the entryway table.”
Vanessa sighed, a long, dramatic sound that filled the small space between the refrigerator and the stove. “Somebody took it, Lauren, and I know it was not the wind.”
“Why would I care about your utility statement?” I asked.
“Because you want to know how much I am spending,” she said, leaning against the counter close enough for me to smell her lavender hand cream. “You want to prove to Mom that I cannot afford to live here.”
I did not answer her. I turned the faucet on and watched the water run over the black handle of the spatula.
“My old landlord never lost my mail,” Vanessa said, tapping her fingernails against the laminate.
“Your old landlord evicted you because you did not pay him,” I said.
Vanessa stiffened, her fingers freezing on the counter. “That is not why I left.”
