Chapter 2

The housewarming video continued playing on the TV.

On the screen, Nora and Caleb were shopping for furniture together, picking out lights and measuring curtains. He stood in my kitchen, smiling at the camera.

"We definitely need an open-concept kitchen. I like chatting while I cook."

The next second, the footage cut to the master bedroom. Caleb sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Nora. "Don't you think the mattress is a little too soft?"

She smiled. "Well, you prefer it that way. That's all that matters."

The entire living room fell silent.

That bed was supposed to be Nora's and mine, yet even the mattress was picked out according to Caleb's preferences.

Caleb's face went pale, and he hurriedly explained, "John, Ms. Ford was just busy that day, so I had to help you guys test it out."

I looked at him. "Testing out the mattress in our bedroom, huh?"

He looked on the verge of tears. "That's not what I meant."

Nora switched off the TV, her voice turning cold. "Enough, John. Caleb is my assistant. He handled almost everything during the renovation. If you're not going to thank him, fine, but don't make him out to be some awful person."

I chuckled. "Thank him? Am I supposed to thank him for turning my mom into your housekeeper, trampling on my dad's hard work, and making me a visitor in my own home?"

She froze. "What are you talking about?"

I passed her my phone. The move-in registration form couldn't be any clearer.

"Resident(s): Nora Ford, Caleb Jackson"

"Visitor: John Shepherd"

"Housekeeper: Maggie Cooper"

Mom saw it, too. Her lips quivered, and she couldn't utter a word.

When the Jacksons had called her into the kitchen to scrub the pots earlier, she had even made excuses for them. She had spent her whole life being honest and genuine, so she never imagined something like this could happen.

Little did she know, she had already been reduced to a housekeeper in her own home.

Nora's expression shifted. "The property manager must've made a mistake."

I stared at her. "A mistake? How did they somehow manage to enter Mom's ID number, then?"

She swallowed hard.

Caleb's trembling voice cut in. "John, I must've mixed things up when I registered the renovation workers. I didn't mean to, I swear."

I turned to him. "If you were only registering the renovation workers, why did you list yourself as the resident?"

His face went white.

Nora frowned and stepped in front of him. "He's already explained himself, John."

I nodded. "Sure. Then explain one more thing."

I walked toward the room at the end of the hallway. It was supposed to be the guest room for Mom and Dad.

Before coming, Mom had even asked me three times. "Are you sure we can stay here sometimes? We won't be getting in the way of you two, will we?"

I told them they wouldn't. They had helped pay for this apartment, after all, so they had every right to stay.

Yet when I opened the door, Caleb's clothes filled the closet. His work ties and belts hung neatly from the hangers, beneath a small label that read, "Caleb's Personal Closet".

Mom stood behind me. The dishcloth in her hand fell to the floor.

"I didn't think your parents would come here often," Caleb muttered weakly. "I just thought we should use the space wisely."

Nora quickly backed him up. "It's not like your parents are used to living in the city, anyway."

How ironic. Mom and Dad sold their old house so we could afford to buy this new apartment. In the end, they didn't even have a room in my house.

I returned to the living room and slammed the wine bottle onto the dining table. "Talk to me, Nora. Who the hell gives you the nerve to let him move into our home?"