Family Landlords Raise the Rent to Force One Sister Out
The realization that it was simply a tool to keep me within reach, a placeholder until Vanessa needed a soft landing, had left a dry, hollow taste in my mouth that even the hot coffee could not wash away.
I took a slow sip, letting the heat settle in my throat while I looked at the bare walls of the entryway.
The brass key to my desk drawer was still in my pocket, a small weight that reminded me of the signed pink lease folder locked safely inside.
There were no spare keys hidden under a ceramic flowerpot on Elm Street, and no twelve-key metal lockbox mounted beside the front door for emergency family visits.
I had given the landlord my deposit and my first month’s rent from the savings account Helen had never been allowed to see, using the money I earned during those late nights at the agency.
A crow landed on the telephone wire outside, its feathers glossy and wet from the heavy mist that hung over the neighborhood.
