Chapter 6 - The Uninvited Visitor
The peace was interrupted on a rainy Tuesday evening in mid-January.
There was a heavy, desperate pounding at the door of our temporary apartment.
Zara froze, dropping her crayons onto the table. Her eyes grew wide with sudden, instinctive fear.
“Mom? Who’s that?”
“Stay right here,” I whispered, stepping toward the door. I looked through the peephole.
It was Samantha. Her hair was damp from the rain, her mascara smudged down her cheeks, and her designer coat looked rumpled and unwashed. She didn’t look like the smug, untouchable queen of the household anymore; she looked desperate.
I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door halfway, keeping the security chain securely latched.
“What do you want, Samantha?”
“Naomi, please,” she sobbed, clutching her purse to her chest. “Mom and Dad are staying at a cheap motel fifty miles away. Their accounts are frozen because Dad messed up some investments trying to pay off the storage fees, and I lost my job at the boutique because I missed three shifts dealing with this mess.”
“That is unfortunate,” I said steadily. “Why are you telling me?”
“We need money, Naomi! Just a few thousand dollars to get an apartment. The kids are sleeping on pull-out couches. Have you no family loyalty? We raised you!”
“You didn’t raise me, Samantha. You used me. You used my house, my hospitality, and my paycheck to fund your lifestyle while treating my daughter like an emotional punching bag.” I looked her dead in the eye. “You left a nine-year-old child alone on Christmas Eve with a note telling her not to call. Did you honestly think there would be no invoice for that?”
“She was annoying!” Samantha shrieked, the mask slipping instantly, revealing the vicious entitlement underneath. “She was always crying, always too sensitive! Everyone agreed she needed to toughen up!”
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“Get off my property,” I said, my voice dropping an octave into a cold, lethal calm. “I am calling the police right now for harassment and violation of the restraining order.”
I pulled out my phone. Samantha took one look at my screen, cursed under her breath, and turned sharply on her heel, running down the stairs into the pouring rain.
