The House I Built With Love
This was the reinforcement she had summoned the moment I removed my disguise.
And I stood there at the head of the table, in the house I had bought with six years of my life, with my mother unconscious in the basement below and a scarred stranger between me and the door, and I realized that I had walked into something far more organized, and far more dangerous, than I had imagined on that porch in my sunglasses and cap.
My sister had not merely stolen a house.
My sister had partners.