For the Deposition
“No,” I corrected. “What’s impossible is pretending you built an empire when all you did was parasitically spend mine.”
Before he could respond, a strange rhythmic clicking echoed over the line. Like a second call tapping in. Then a distorted, synthesized voice whispered through the speaker.
“Time’s up, Clara. They aren’t the only ones who know how to play this game.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 4: The Eviction Symphony
The formal eviction was executed at nine o’clock sharp the following morning.
I didn’t go alone to reclaim my territory.