Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
The signature at the bottom of the deed transfer was bold and clear, written in black ink that had not faded.
It was the same sweeping cursive I had seen on the utility transition form.
I looked down at the paper, my fingers tracing the edge of the clean copy.
The black and white photocopy of my sister’s signature on the title deed of the apartment I had spent two years cleaning.
I folded the photocopy of the deed and slid it into my leather tote bag, pressing the leather flat against my side. The county records office was quiet as I walked out, the heavy glass doors swinging shut behind me.
The transit bus was crowded with people holding wet umbrellas, and I stood near the back door, keeping my hand over the zipper of my bag. I got off three blocks early to avoid the traffic near the park, walking past the small grocery where I usually bought my Friday night meals.
