Chapter 2

My phone buzzed again.

George sent me another message.

"Ms. Mabrey, one of the other residents would like to meet tomorrow around noon to sign the paperwork. Would that work for you?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Keira, let me know next time you're coming home late," Genevieve said, still smiling at me. "I'll save some food for you."

I looked at her. "You won't need to anymore."

Her smile froze as I pushed my bowl aside.

"I'm full."

"What's your problem now?" Logan's voice hardened.

I didn't explain. In the past, I used to worry that he'd misunderstand me if I didn't clarify. Eventually, I realized he understood perfectly well. He simply didn't think it mattered.

As I closed my bedroom door, I heard Genevieve asking Logan in a soft voice, "Did I upset her again?"

"Don't worry about her," he murmured, trying to reassure her. "She's just been under a lot of pressure lately."

I stood with my back against the door for a long time. The living room was warmly lit, and their laughter echoed through the house.

That was when realization dawned on me. There was no place for me in this home anymore.

…

The next morning, our group chat lit up before I'd even left for work. Genevieve had sent me a string of messages.

"Keira, are you mad at me? You're not really upset with me over the parking spot, are you?"

She added several crying emojis.

"Don't overthink it," Logan quickly replied. "She's just been busy with work lately. She didn't mean to take your spot. Don't worry about it."

I was sitting on the subway, staring at their messages, and it suddenly struck me how ridiculous the whole situation was.

It was my parking spot. I was the one who had to park farther away every day, and sometimes, I couldn't even fit my car into my own spot.

Yet somehow, between Genevieve and Logan, I was the one who came across as difficult and petty.

I didn't reply.

At noon, I took time off work to go to the property office and sign the paperwork.

"It's a really good spot," George said, still trying to talk me out of it. "Are you sure you don't want to keep it?"

"No," I replied, picking up the pen swiftly. "I'm selling it."

The moment I signed, I felt as though a weight had lifted off my chest. I didn't want to stand in that parking garage anymore, waiting for someone to show me the bare minimum of consideration.

…

After work, I drove into the garage.

From a distance, I spotted that same white car, its front end over the line and the rear angled crookedly. Genevieve still parked as though she had every right to take up as much space as she wanted.

I sat behind the wheel, staring at it for a few seconds before suddenly laughing.

It turned out it didn't matter whether I sold the spot or not. She was going to park like that anyway.

I left my car in a temporary spot and went upstairs.

I hadn't even put my key in the lock when I heard their laughter coming from inside.

"Good thing you acted quickly!" Genevieve exclaimed, her voice light and cheerful. "If you hadn't bought the spot before someone else did, where would I park?"

Logan laughed. "I told you. We should buy it first and figure out the rest later."

I went very still. So, the buyer George had mentioned was Logan.

The apartment fell silent for a moment.

"Won't Keira be mad when she finds out?" Genevieve asked in a small voice.

"She's just throwing a fit." Logan sounded completely unconcerned. "Give it a couple of days, and I'll smooth things over."

"What if she won't let me park there?"

"The spot will be in my name. She doesn't get a say."

At that moment, I couldn't even bring myself to open the door.

When I signed the paperwork yesterday, I thought I was finally walking away from the whole mess.

Instead, the moment I sold my parking lot, Logan bought it without skipping a beat—just so he could keep letting Genevieve use it.