You Just Evicted Your Landlord
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Summary
The security footage flickered on the conference room screen during our Monday morning stand-up. It was a grainy, high-contrast video of the apartment building's third-floor hallway. In the frame, a woman with thinning silver hair and a slightly bent spine was hovering over a row of black trash bags lining the wall.
It was my grandmother, Helen.
I reached for the remote to turn it off, my chest tightening with a sudden, sharp anxiety. But before my fingers could touch the plastic, Jessica, our newest intern, slammed a thick sheet of paper onto the center of the mahogany table.





