Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
I went to the front window and looked down at the street. My mother’s silver sedan was not in the parking lot yet. Vanessa’s car was gone too, meaning they were still at the department store in Tigard where Vanessa liked to shop for shoes.
I went back to the bedroom and took the brass desk lamp from the nightstand. The metal base was heavy and cool, the green glass shade reflecting my face in a long, green curve. I wrapped the black cord around the brass neck three times, tucking the plug under the wire.
The room was nearly empty now. The only things left were Vanessa’s suitcases in the corner and her dirty mugs on the counter.
I carried the brass lamp down the stairs to my car, the cold air hitting my face as I opened the heavy outer door. The street was quiet, the gray clouds hanging low over the river.
The brass desk lamp sitting in the back of my car, its cord wrapped tight like a promise.
