“You know,” I began, my voice steady and unwavering, “it takes a lot to turn a home into a house, and you’ve managed to do just that in record time.”
Monica’s smile faltered, just for a moment. “I’m only making room for the future,” she said, trying to regain her composure, but her voice lacked conviction.
I placed the laundry basket down, my eyes never leaving hers. “Emma’s future matters too. She lost her mother, and now, thanks to you, she’s losing her home. You think you can just wipe away her past like it doesn’t matter?”
