Chapter 2Who Lives in My House Now?

I frowned, my head tilting. Her door?

I glanced up at the brass numbers: 1901. This was my apartment. There was no mistake.

Before I could answer, the man stomped toward me, his face a mask of aggression. "Spit it out. What are you doing, creeping around our place? Trying to break in?"

I shot him a withering look. "I live here," I said, my voice cold. "What would I need to steal?"

He scoffed, turning to the woman with a smirk. "Don't worry, honey. Just some crazy lady who thinks she can just claim an apartment."

That did it. My patience evaporated.

He saw I wasn't moving and grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my bicep. "Get the hell out of here. You pull this crap again, and you'll regret it."

His foul language ignited a fire in me. "You don't ask a single question, just start spewing garbage? Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners?"

He puffed out his chest, ready to escalate, but the woman, at least, had a shred of composure. "Then explain yourself," she said, her arms crossed. "Why are you at our front door?"

I took a steadying breath, trying to be the reasonable one. "This is my home. I've been living out of state for the last ten years and only just got back into town to..."

The woman shrieked, cutting me off. "What are you talking about? We've lived here for six years! We have the deed. Look, you haven't been here in a decade. You must have the wrong address."

For a second, a sliver of doubt crept in. I walked back to the elevator and looked at the building directory. Tower 1, Unit B, 19th Floor. This was it.

I returned to the door. "No, this is the right place. And I have a deed, too."

Their patience was clearly gone. The man—I’d later learn his name was Leo—shoved his own key into the lock. It turned with a smooth, effortless click, and the door swung open.