Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
Vanessa stopped playing with her glasses and sat up straight, her boots dropping to the floor with a dull thud.
“It is the rent, Lauren,” she said, her voice rising to a sharp, dramatic pitch. “You cannot just decide to live here for free because you are having a tantrum about the price.”
“I am not paying eighteen hundred dollars to my younger sister,” I said.
She stood up from the sofa and walked toward the kitchen, her heels clicking on the hardwood.
“It is not my fault the market went up,” she said, leaning against the counter. “You have been paying way under market value for two years, and now it is time to face reality.”
“The market did not go up,” I said. “You became the owner on the twelfth of last month.”
Vanessa froze, her fingers hovering over the handle of the refrigerator.
“I do not know what you are talking about,” she said, though she did not look at me.
“I have the deed photocopy in my bag,” I said.
