I walked into the living room. My gaze swept over the space I'd once poured my soul into.
The floor tiles I'd agonized over—the perfect shade to brighten the room. The custom wall paint. The light fixtures casting their soft, welcoming glow. Even the outlet placements I'd mapped for convenience.
This had been my harbor. My sanctuary.
Now it was just a monument to my own foolishness.
I turned back to Liam, eyes dry, voice ice.
"Tear it out. Everything I paid for. Leave nothing."
He nodded and signaled his men.
The work began instantly. Electric drills roared. Sledgehammers thudded. Crowbars screeched against tile.
Within minutes, the cozy atmosphere shattered. Dust rose in choking clouds. Debris piled on the floor.
The workers moved with brutal efficiency. They didn't see a home—they saw a job site.
A day and a half. That's all it took to undo years of effort. Walls stripped. Floors ripped up. Cabinetry dismantled. The warm, comfortable home reduced to a cold concrete shell.
"Miss Sarah, per your instructions, everything you purchased has been removed." Liam wiped dust from his face. "Personal items belonging to the residents are stacked in the corner."
He handed me a clipboard. "Inventory of the furniture and appliances you bought. Some of it's still in good condition. We can call a recycler, or..."
I glanced at the list—items I'd once treasured, saved months to buy.
"If it sells, sell it. If not, haul it away as trash."
"Understood."
A few calls later, a secondhand recycler arrived with a truck. Piece by piece, they carried out the sofas, tables, television—everything I'd carefully selected to make this house a home.
"Final payment and bonus transferred," I said as the last truck pulled away. "Thank you, Liam."
I stood in the center of the room one last time.
Gray walls. Rough concrete. Uneven floor.
The warmth was gone.
The apartment had returned to exactly what it was before I stepped into their lives.
An empty shell.
Staring at the gutted shell of the apartment, the crushing weight that had sat on my chest for years finally lifted. I felt lighter. Free.
I didn't linger. I turned my back on the empty rooms, went home, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, the shrill ringing of my phone jarred me awake. Before I could even say hello, my mother's hysterical voice assaulted my ear.