Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
I looked down at the white sheet, my fingers tightening around the edge of the paper.
“He didn’t say that to me,” I said.
“Your father knows his duty,” Helen said, turning back toward the living room. “And you should learn yours.”
She walked back to the sofa where Vanessa was waiting.
My sister’s quiet, smug smile from the sofa as my mother handed me the handwritten rent increase notice.
By Friday morning, the handwritten rent notice was still sitting on my dresser under a stack of unpaid utility bills.
I stood in the agency breakroom at ten o’clock, watching the dark liquid trickle into my paper cup. The smell of burnt hazelnut coffee filled the small room, mixing with the sharp scent of the lemon cleaner the janitor used on the counters.
Keith, my supervisor, walked in holding a stack of color-coded folders. He stopped near the microwave, looking at me for several seconds before he clicked his blue ballpoint pen three times.
“You look like you are running on thirty minutes of sleep, Lauren,” Keith said.
