Chapter 1

My cousin, Zoe Parker, stood in the doorway of my apartment with her arms crossed. “I’m doing you a favor by staying here and giving you the chance to help me, so don’t stand there pretending to be generous when you’re actually being petty. Who are you trying to fool?”

A month ago, she clung to my hand and swore that she would live here alone and study quietly for the college entrance exam.

My heart softened. I did not charge her rent and did not even ask for a security deposit.

I came home to pick up some documents today, only to discover that the locks had been changed. She had not just moved in. She had moved her entire family, and their dog, into my apartment.

My handmade wool rug had been soaked in dog urine. The covers had been ripped off my out-of-print books. My silk pajama set worth nearly three thousand dollars had been used as a cleaning rag.

I confronted them in the family group chat, demanding to know who had changed the locks and why my belongings had been ruined.

My aunt was the first to fire back.

“Do you have any idea how hard your cousin is working for the college entrance exam? What’s wrong with a family staying in your empty apartment?”

One relative after another piled on, calling me stingy, heartless, and even saying that with an attitude like mine, I would never find a husband.

However, that was not even the worst of it.

They had barely been living there for a few days when they managed to break a water pipe. Water leaked into the apartment downstairs, soaking the neighbor’s balcony and causing thousands of dollars in damage. Somehow, they expected me to pay the five-thousand-dollar repair bill.

I stared at the messages flooding across my screen, one cruel accusation after another. Then, I picked up my phone and called the property management office.

Chapter 1

“Besides, you don’t even live here. We’re just giving the place a little life.”

“You’re single anyway. Who are you trying to impress by keeping everything so spotless? Then why don’t you get married and have kids yourself?”

“I’m staying in your apartment because I’m doing you a favor, so don’t stand there pretending to be generous when you’re actually being petty. Who exactly are you trying to fool?”

My cousin, Zoe Parker, stood there with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe of my apartment as she tossed those words at me.

Her dyed-blonde hair looked almost painfully bright beneath the hallway lights. Paired with the smug, entitled expression on her face, it was enough to make me wonder, for one brief second, whether I was the one hallucinating.

A month earlier, she held my hand and told me the college entrance exam was entering its final stretch. Her house was way too noisy. She wanted to borrow my apartment for three months so she could study in peace. She promised she would keep to herself and focus on her exams.

I looked at her face, so much like my aunt’s, and remembered my mother on her deathbed, holding my hand and asking me to look after my uncle and his family.

My heart softened, so I agreed.

I let her stay rent-free and did not even ask for a security deposit. I only made one thing very clear, I told her to take care of the place, and that no strangers were allowed.

Zoe said, “Don’t worry, Celine. It’ll just be me. I swear on my college entrance exam.”

I came by to pick up an important document today. However, I found out the fingerprint lock would not open.

I tried the passcode. It said it was the wrong one.

I pulled out my spare key and tried it next. It would not even go in. The lock cylinder had been replaced.

I knocked for half an hour until my knuckles turned red. Eventually, the door opened a crack from the inside.

A man came to open the door. He was shirtless, with a thick gold chain hanging around his neck. He wore an impatient, irritated expression.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing knocking this early in the morning?”

I was startled for a moment.

I knew him.

It was my cousin, Alex Parker, Zoe’s elder brother. He was a good-for-nothing who spent most of his time getting into trouble.

What was he doing here?

Before I could say a word, Alex recognized me. His brows drew together. “Oh. It’s you, Celine. What are you doing here?”

I looked past his shoulder.

The German custom kitchen cabinets I had spent over ten thousand dollars on were now smeared with greasy fingerprints, their once-pristine doors so grimy they practically gleamed.

From the bathroom came the steady rush of running water. I glanced over and saw a clump of hair clogging the drain, with water spilling everywhere.

Apparently, they had not even bothered with the most basic upkeep.

The warm ivory walls I had painstakingly chosen were now plastered with bright, cartoon-covered BabyBus stickers.

My handmade Turkish wool rug was littered with sunflower seed shells and dog food.

My favorite armchair was buried beneath several greasy men’s shirts.

A brown toy poodle suddenly crawled out from underneath the sofa, barking furiously at me before running to the dining table. Then, It lifted its hind leg.

A warm stream of urine ran down the table leg.

I went completely still.

“What is this?” My voice came out cold.

Alex casually nudged the dog aside with his foot. “Why are you making such a big deal out of it? It’s just a damn table. We’ll wipe it down later.”

Then my aunt poked her head out of the kitchen, holding a spatula.

“Oh, Celine! You’re here!” she said cheerfully, “Have you eaten? I was just about to make lunch.”

A loud sizzle came from the kitchen. A wave of greasy smoke and spicy heat rolled out of the kitchen and I instinctively took two steps back.

A little girl, maybe three or four years old, came wobbling out of one of the bedrooms. She was holding a marker, and began drawing wavy lines across the wall of my living room.

“Sweetie, don’t draw on the walls.” Zoe called from the bedroom. She came out of the bedroom with a yawn. She was wearing my silk pajamas. I bought them for myself as a birthday present. They cost me more than three thousand dollars.

Now they were wrinkled, with a yellow stain smeared across the collar.

My uncle came out next, a cigarette dangling from his lips. When he saw me, he was stunned for a moment. Then, without a second thought, he crushed the cigarette directly into the ashtray sitting on my desk.

It was not an ashtray. I bought it to hold scented candles.

Behind him, Alex’s wife was crouched on the floor, wiping the dog’s paws.

Also, on the custom-made desk I had designed specifically for myself, sat an opened package of diapers and several cans of baby formula.

On the floor beside my bookshelf lay several out-of-print books my mother had left behind. Their pages were bent. One of them had even had half its cover torn off.

There were over five people, and a dog.

So this was what Zoe had meant by “just me.”

My eyes slowly traveled across the apartment before finally settling on her face.

For a moment, she looked uncomfortable as I stared. Then she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. That was how we arrived at the beginning of this scene.

“You’re single anyway. Who are you trying to impress by keeping everything so clean?”

Her words pierced like a needle.

I looked at her, then at everyone crowding my apartment, at the home I barely recognized anymore. My chest felt strangely tight.

If I fought back with words, they would only come at me harder. If I tried to get physical, Alex was standing right there.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm. Arguing with them wouldn’t get me anywhere. What I needed was evidence.

So I said nothing. I simply pulled out my phone, let my finger glide casually across the screen, and tapped the record button.

The more brazen they became, the stronger my evidence would be.

“Are you finished?” I asked in a soft voice.

Zoe mistook my silence for surrender. Her voice grew louder.

“What? Not happy? Did I say something wrong?

“You’re almost thirty and you still don’t even have a boyfriend. What good is keeping an empty apartment?

“We’re living here as a family. We’re giving your place some life. You should be thanking us.”

Alex chimed in, “Exactly. What’s the point of a woman being so stubborn?”

“You should just get married already. Look at how petty you’re being. You’d think lending us an apartment was going to kill you.”

My aunt came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of something blackened beyond recognition. She set it on the dining table and joined in.

“Celine, Zoe’s right. We’re family. There’s no need to draw such clear lines between us.

“Your apartment was sitting empty anyway. We’re living here, and we’ll even clean it for you every day. Isn’t that better?”

Clean it?

I looked at the puddle of dog urine on the floor. Then the marker streaks across my wall. I had to admit, that was probably the funniest joke I had heard all year.

However, I did not argue. There was no point trying to reason with people like them.

Instead, I nodded slowly, putting on an expression as though I were too furious to even speak. Then I turned around and walked away.

“That’s it? You’re leaving?” Alex called after me mockingly. “Well, that was disappointing. I thought you were tougher than that.”

Zoe’s voice followed, dripping with smug triumph.

“By the way, Celine, we changed the locks for security reasons. If you’d like to come back and stay here, just let us know ahead of time.”

I did not turn around. I walked quickly into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.

The moment the doors closed, the expression on my face went cold.

I lowered my eyes to my phone. The recording was still running.

Three minutes and twenty seconds. Every single thing they had said, every ugly side of them, had been captured crystal clear.

Did they really think they could just take what was mine and get away with it?

Chapter 2

I did not go home. Instead, I drove straight to the nearest coffee shop.

I ordered an iced Americano, took a seat by the window, and began piecing together my next move.

Breaking in was out of the question. They outnumbered me, and Alex was exactly the kind of thug who might get physical.

Arguing with them would be even more pointless. It would only waste my energy and give them an opportunity to twist the story around and accuse me of disrespecting my elders.

I needed evidence.

The recording I had just made was only the beginning. It was nowhere near enough.

I pulled out my phone and opened the family group chat.

It was usually dead quiet. Nobody said a word most of the time.

I tapped Zoe’s profile and sent her a message.

[Zoe, why did you change the locks on my apartment?]

[And why are so many people living there now? You promised me it would just be you.]

I deliberately worded it to sound confrontational, but with just enough hurt underneath.

Five minutes later, Zoe replied. She did not reply to my text privately. Instead, she took a screenshot of my messages and posted it straight into the family group chat.

Then she sent a long voice message. Her voice was trembling with tears.

“Someone please tell me what Celine is trying to say here.

“I’m already under so much pressure preparing for my college entrance exams. I borrowed her apartment for a few days, and now she comes storming over and interrogates me like I’ve taken something from her.

“We’re family. What’s the big deal about us staying in her empty apartment? Does she really have to treat me like this?”

Before I could respond, my aunt jumped in.

[Celine, what is wrong with you? How can you be so inconsiderate?]

[Don’t you know how hard Zoe is working for her exams?]

[We moved in to take care of her. We cook for her, do her laundry, and look after her. We’re doing this for her own good.]

[As for you? The first thing you do is give her an attitude. Do you even have any respect left for your elders?]

One by one, relatives I barely spoke to anymore started chiming in.

[Celine, your aunt is right. Family members are supposed to support each other.]

[Exactly. You live alone in such a big apartment anyway. It’s a waste of space. What’s wrong with letting Zoe and her family stay there?]

[Don’t be so stingy. You’ll never find a husband with an attitude like that.]

I stared at the accusations piling up on my screen, my fingers turning cold.

They were experts at claiming the moral high ground, painting me as some coldhearted, selfish villain who cared about nothing but her own possessions.

Then my father, who spent most of the year away from home, sent a message.

[Celine, just be more accommodating to your uncle’s family. Your mother always loved your cousin the most when she was alive.]

Not this again.

It was always the same. They dragged my dead mother into it to pressure me into giving in every time.

I took a deep breath and began taking screenshots of the entire conversation, message by message. Every single one was evidence.

I did not argue with them in the group chat.

Instead, I messaged Zoe privately again.

[The apartment belongs to me. I have the right to decide who lives there and who doesn’t. You need to move out.]

This time, Zoe replied almost instantly.

[Seriously, Celine? Can you stop being so dramatic? Where are we supposed to go?]

[Do you really have the heart to watch our whole family end up on the streets?]

[Besides, we’ve been living here for so long that we’ve gotten attached.]

[This place has good energy, too. Ever since we moved in, Dad’s back stopped hurting.]

Howdy was Alex’s son, a second-grader. I had not seen him in the apartment earlier. He was probably at school.

She actually had the nerve to bring up such a topic.

I swallowed my anger and kept typing.

[I don’t care what kind of good energy you think the place has. It’s my apartment.]

[You’re responsible for everything you damaged and you’re going to reimburse me in full.]

[The stickers on the walls, the dog urine on the floor and the scratches on the table legs.]

Zoe sent me an eye-roll emoji.

[Seriously? That’s what you’re upset about? We’ll repaint the walls. Mom can wash the rug. We’ll sand down the table legs. Problem solved. Why are you making such a huge deal out of this?]

[It’s just an apartment. We’re not saying we won’t give it back.]

[When are you giving it back?]

[Let’s talk after I finish my grad school entrance exam. We’re going to celebrate here with the whole family afterward anyway. We probably won’t leave until after the New Year.]

After the New Year.

It was only October.

I took another screenshot.

Then I opened the voice recorder on my phone and called my aunt.

The phone rang for a long time before she finally answered.

“Hello? Celine? What do you want now? I’m busy making soup for Zoe.”

Her voice was already dripping with irritation.

“I just want to confirm something. Are you saying your family has no intention of moving out?”

“Move out? Why would we move? We’re perfectly comfortable here.

“Why are you being so stubborn?

“Zoe’s college entrance exam is a big deal. The whole family needs to support her. Can’t you be a little understanding?”

“Then what about the things you’ve damaged?

“My walls. My rug. My desk. My pajamas. You’ve stained or ruined all of them.”

My aunt gave a derisive laugh on the other end.

“That old pajama set? I’ll ask Zoe to buy you another one.

“How much could a wall and a rug possibly cost? You make plenty of money every month. Are you really going to bother over pocket change like this?

“You’ve been spoiled rotten by your rich mother. You don’t have an ounce of human decency.”

There it was again. My mother.

I clenched my fist so tightly my nails dug into my palm.

“Those pajamas cost more than three thousand dollars.”

Silence came from the other end of the line.

Then, a few seconds later, her voice turned shrill.

“More than three thousand? Who are you trying to fool? What kind of pajamas cost that much?

“Are they trimmed with gold?

“You’re obviously just looking for an excuse to pick a fight! Is this because you think our family is poor? Are you deliberately making things difficult for us?”

“I’m not. I still have the receipt.”

“I don’t care about your stupid receipt! We don't have the money!

“Do whatever you want!

“And if you keep pushing us, we’ll show up at your workplace and make a scene. Let’s see what your coworkers think of you then!

“All this over a few lousy things? You’d really throw your own relatives away over that?”

She hung up after saying all those things.

I listened to the dead silence on the line before slowly letting out a breath.

I organized every recording and screenshot into separate folders and saved them all inside an encrypted file.

However, I knew it still was not enough.

All this proved was that they were shameless freeloaders. It was not enough to hold them legally accountable.

I needed something more direct, something stronger.

I needed evidence that they had entered my property without permission, and evidence that they had deliberately damaged it.

I was lost in my thoughts when my phone suddenly rang.

It was an unfamiliar number.

I answered.

“Hello. Am I speaking with Ms. Celine Bennett, the owner of Unit 1302?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Mr. Walls, the property manager for your building.

“The owner of Unit 1202 downstairs has filed a complaint. He says water from your apartment has leaked into his unit and damaged his ceiling.

“Would you be able to come back and take a look?”

My apartment had been waterproofed three separate times during the renovation, using the highest-quality materials available. There was no way it could just spring a leak.

Then a thought flashed through my mind. Was this not the perfect opportunity to get the property management involved and have them pull the security footage?

My chance had finally come.

Chapter 3

I rushed back to the apartment complex as fast as I could.

Downstairs, I was met by the young couple who lived in Unit 1202.

The husband pointed furiously at the ceiling of their balcony.

“Ms. Bennett, just look at this! What the hell is going on?

“Water’s pouring down like it’s raining indoors! It even ruined the dryer I just bought. What on earth is happening in your apartment?”

I followed his finger and saw a huge patch of water stains spreading across their balcony ceiling. Water was still dripping steadily from above.

I immediately apologized, “I’m so sorry. I’ll go upstairs and check it right now. I’ll cover whatever damage was caused.”

After calming the neighbors down, I headed straight to the property management office.

Mr. Walls, the property manager, was a man in his forties. The moment he saw me, his expression turned apologetic.

“Ms. Bennett, it’s not just the water leak.

“We’ve received several complaints about your apartment recently. Most of them are about noise.

“Some residents have reported hearing men shouting late at night, children crying, and a dog barking.

“Aren’t you living alone?”

I let out a sigh, putting on an expression of helpless frustration.

“Mr. Walls, to be honest, I let my cousin stay there while she prepared for her college entrance exams. She promised me she’d be living alone.

“Instead, I only found out today that she moved her entire family in. There’s over five of them and a dog.”

Mr. Wall’s brow furrowed.

“Over five people? That violates our regulations.

“Our building rules state that no more than three people can permanently occupy a single apartment.

“And yours is a one-bedroom apartment. Having that many people living there creates serious fire safety concerns as well.”

“Exactly. I don’t know what to do.” I followed his lead.

“I told them they had to leave, but they refused. They even changed the locks. I couldn’t get into my own apartment this morning.”

“They changed the locks?” Mr. Wall’s expression immediately hardened.

“That’s a serious violation. They’re not allowed to make unauthorized changes to the property like that.”

I pulled out my phone and opened the recording I had made earlier. I lowered the volume so he could focus on the footage.

“Look. This was the situation this morning.

“That’s my cousin’s older brother at the door. Inside are my uncle, my aunt, my cousin, and her little sister.

“My own home has basically become a boarding house.”

As Mr. Walls watched the chaotic footage, his expression grew darker by the second.

“That’s outrageous,” muttered Mr. Walls.

I put my phone away and carefully let my helplessness show.

“Mr. Walls, what am I supposed to do now?

“They refuse to leave. The water damage still needs to be dealt with. The neighbor downstairs is waiting for compensation, but I can’t even get through my own front door.”

Mr. Walls pondered for a moment and replied, “Here’s what we’ll do, Ms. Bennett. We’ll send a maintenance technician over to inspect the leak first.

“And to determine who’s responsible and protect your interests, I think we should pull the security footage from outside your apartment.

“Let’s see exactly what’s been happening over the past month.”

That was exactly what I had been waiting to hear.

“Can we do that?” I deliberately let a trace of hesitation cross my face before giving a reluctant nod.

“I appreciate it, Mr. Walls.” I kept my smile polite. “If we can figure out what happened, it’ll give both me and the neighbors downstairs some closure.”

I made sure not to appear overly grateful or eager. But inside, I knew this was the piece of evidence I needed most.

Mr. Walls took me to the security control room.

The footage was crystal clear.

He had the staff rewind a little over a month ago, the day after I handed Zoe the keys.

On the screen, Zoe entered the apartment alone, dragging a small suitcase behind her.

Just two days later, the cameras caught my aunt and the little girl arriving with bags of groceries and household supplies. They unlocked the door with a key and went inside.

A week later, my uncle and Alex appeared.

Alex had a huge suitcase slung over his shoulder and was leading the little brown poodle by its leash.

Then came the most important piece of evidence.

About two weeks earlier, the footage showed a man wearing a “Quick Lock Locksmith” uniform working outside my apartment door for nearly half a day. Zoe stood beside him, watching.

When he finished replacing the lock, Zoe pulled several bills from her wallet and handed them to him. The locksmith handed her back her change.

The evidence was damning.

They had moved multiple people into my apartment without my permission, brought in a dog, and changed the locks without my consent.

Mr. Wall’s expression was full of anger.

He had his staff copy key moments of footage onto a USB drive — the clips showing all family members arriving with their luggage and the dog, along with the footage of Zoe hiring a locksmith to replace my locks.

Then he handed the USB drive to me.

“Ms. Bennett, this contains the security footage from your apartment.

“According to our building regulations, they’ve committed several serious violations.

“We can issue a formal violation notice requiring them to move out by a specific deadline.

“If they refuse to comply, we have the authority to take further measures, including cutting off their water and electricity.”

I took the USB drive and held it tightly in my hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Walls. Really. Thank you.”

“No worries. Protecting our residents’ legal rights is part of our job.” He paused for a moment before adding, “As for the damage to Unit 1202 downstairs, we’ve also had a third-party assessor come take a look.”

“The ceiling repairs and the dryer repair are estimated at around five thousand dollars.”

Five thousand dollars.

I nodded. “Okay. I understand.”

After leaving the property management office, I did not go looking for Zoe and her family.

I knew this was still not the time to confront them.

The violation notice was only the first step. On its own, it would not be enough to scare them into leaving.

I wanted them gone for good. Also, I wanted them to pay for everything they had done.

I needed a spark, something that would set the whole thing off.

I glanced down at my phone. The family group chat was still buzzing with people tearing me apart.

My aunt had turned me into some coldhearted, money-obsessed ingrate who had apparently forgotten what family meant.

I gave a cold laugh and closed the app.

Then I sat in my car and waited. I knew they would come looking for me soon.

When it came to that five-thousand-dollar bill, there was no way they were going to pay a single cent.

Sure enough, half an hour later, my phone rang.

It was my aunt.

I hit record before answering.

Her furious voice exploded through the speaker.

“Celine! Look at you, getting all high and mighty! You actually went behind our backs and got the property manager involved?

“Don’t think we’re scared of you! So there’s a little water damage. Big deal!

“The people downstairs want five thousand dollars? Get over here and pay for it!

“If you don’t come, we’re selling all your books to cover the bill!”

They wanted to sell my books.

Some of those books had belonged to my mother. They were rare, out-of-print editions, the most precious things I had left of her.

Something inside me snapped. I hung up and immediately dialed the police.

“Hello, I need to report a break-in.

“My property has been unlawfully occupied. They’ve seriously damaged my furniture, and now they’re threatening to sell my personal belongings.

“Yes. I have evidence of everything.”