Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
“He sent three notices to this address before you even moved your bags in,” I said.
She did not explain. She turned on her heel and walked back toward the second bedroom, her bare feet making a soft sticking sound on the linoleum.
The brass desk lamp on my small workspace table was the only light burning in the living room when my mother arrived at six o’clock on Thursday. She did not take off her beige trench coat, even though the radiator was clicking and releasing dry heat.
Helen walked straight to the oak coffee table and ran her index finger along the edge of the wood. “There is a film on this,” she said, holding her finger up to the light of the brass lamp.
“I dusted yesterday,” I said, standing near the doorway.
“Not well enough,” my mother said, tapping her heavy gold wedding ring against her phone screen. “Vanessa says her allergies have been flaring up since she arrived. We cannot have her getting sick.”
