Seven days later, they came back, expecting to find me exactly as they left me—broken, quiet, waiting.
The car pulled up at noon.
Linda smiled first.
It didn’t last.
Ethan stepped out, rolled his suitcase to the door, and inserted his key.
It didn’t work.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Ashley laughed, thinking he grabbed the wrong key.
Linda snatched it, shoved it into the lock with confidence.
Still nothing.
Then they saw it.
A sleek digital keypad.
Silence inside.
And a red notice taped to the door.
Ethan stepped back.
“No… no…”
Linda read the bold text.
For once—she had no words.
“What is this?” she snapped, tearing it down.
Ethan read it aloud:
ACCESS RESTRICTED BY LEGAL ORDER.
ENTRY PROHIBITED.
ANY ATTEMPT WILL BE REPORTED.
Below it—the name of a law firm.
And one final line:
The former occupants have been notified.
“Former occupants?” Ashley whispered.
“This is insane!” Linda shouted. “She can’t do this!”
But Ethan wasn’t listening.
He stared at the door that had never been his.
For the first time—
he understood.
He called me.
I was sitting in a rocking chair at Hannah’s house, my son asleep against my chest.
I watched his name flash.
Ignored it.
He kept calling.
