The realization hit them hard.
Within ninety seconds, Lauren and Carol were on their knees, sobbing among shattered glass and spilled tea. Lauren grabbed at my jeans.
“Please, Emily! Please! We have nowhere to go! Mark will kill me. I’ll do anything. Just put the money back.”
I looked down at her and searched for pity.
There was none.
I stepped over them and entered the house.
Inside, the truth was even worse.
The antique furniture I had bought was gone. The rooms were nearly empty. At the back of the house, I found a small, hot guest room with two cheap air mattresses on the floor and one weak fan pushing warm air around.
This was where my parents had been sleeping.
Meanwhile, the master bedroom upstairs was locked and filled with Lauren’s perfume and expensive candles.
My phone rang.
Mark.
I answered on speaker.
