Chapter 2: The Paper on My Kitchen Counter
I stared at the document for nearly a full minute before touching it.
My first thought was that it had to be a joke.
A cruel one.
Mia loved dramatic gestures.
She once posted online that she was "homeless and abandoned" when I asked her to wash her own dishes.
She had been standing in my kitchen when she posted it.
Using my Wi-Fi.
Eating my groceries.
But this was different.
This wasn't a social media performance.
This was paperwork.
I picked up the pages and scanned the first paragraph.
My hands tightened around the paper.
"What are you doing?""
Mia's voice came from behind me.
I turned around.
She was standing in the hallway wearing my old college sweatshirt.
The same sweatshirt she had borrowed six months ago and never returned.
Behind her stood Karen.
Both of them looked strangely calm.
Almost confident.
That was when I knew this wasn't random.
"Mia," I said slowly, "what is this?""
She crossed her arms.
"Something you should have thought about before throwing your family away.""
I looked at Karen.
"You knew about this?""
Karen didn't answer immediately.
That pause told me everything.
"Karen.""
She sighed.
"Thomas, don't make this into something ugly.""
I laughed quietly.
"Something ugly?""
I lifted the document.
"You two left legal paperwork on my kitchen counter claiming I can't just make Mia leave my apartment.""
Mia rolled her eyes.
"Because you can't.""
I looked at her.
"Excuse me?""
She walked closer.
"You let me live here. You accepted me as part of the household. You can't just wake up one day and decide I'm unwanted.""
I stared at her.
Fourteen months.
No rent.
No bills.
No contribution.
And somehow she had convinced herself she was the victim.
"Mia, this is my apartment.""
She smiled.
"That's what you think.""
A cold feeling moved through my chest.
"What does that mean?""
Karen stepped forward.
"Your father always said family assets should be shared.""
I frowned.
"What does my father have to do with this?""
Neither of them answered.
That bothered me more than anything.
My father had been gone for years.
But suddenly, they were bringing him into this?
I looked back down at the document.
There were words I didn't understand completely.
References to claims.
Residency.
Contributions.
I wasn't a lawyer.
I was just a guy who thought buying his own apartment meant he owned his own apartment.
Apparently, Mia had been preparing for this conversation.
She reached for the paper.
"Maybe you should talk to someone before you embarrass yourself.""
I pulled it away.
"You're threatening me in my own home?""
She smiled.
"No. I'm warning you.""
Karen picked up her purse.
"We're leaving for now.""
I looked at both of them.
"Where are you going?""
Mia shrugged.
"To give you time to think.""
Then she walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she stopped and looked back.
"You always thought being the responsible one made you powerful.""
Her smile disappeared.
"But people like you forget one thing.""
I said nothing.
She opened the door.
"Nice people are easy to hurt.""
The door closed.
I stood alone in my apartment.
The silence felt heavier than before.
For the first time in years, nobody needed anything from me.
Nobody was asking for help.
Nobody was calling me selfish.
But instead of feeling guilty, I felt something else.
A strange kind of clarity.
I placed the document on the table.
Then I grabbed my laptop.
I started searching every name, every phrase, every detail on the paperwork.
An hour passed.
Then another.
And just when I thought I understood what Mia and Karen were trying to do, I found something hidden in the document's final page.
A signature.
A date.
May you like
And a name I hadn't seen in years.
My father's.
