My hands were shaking.
Not because I was frightened.
Because for the first time in years, I had defended myself without immediately apologizing for it.
I thought that was the end of the story.
I was wrong.
Two weeks later, someone knocked on my door.
It was Mr. Alvarez, Monica’s landlord.
He had known my late husband for years before moving out of state.
“I saw the video,” he said.
I felt slightly embarrassed.
“About the paint?”
He smiled faintly.
“That certainly got my attention.”
Then his expression became serious.
“Her lease expires next month. I’m not renewing it.”
I stared at him.
“Because she used my electricity?”
Language Resources
“No.”
Apparently, after seeing the neighborhood video, Mr. Alvarez had decided to take a closer look at the property.
What he discovered had nothing to do with me.
Monica had fallen behind on several utility payments.
There was significant damage inside the rental house that she had never reported.
