Locked Out of My Own Home

The real estate agent called just as I woke up in the hotel room. "Ms. Keating, are you sure you want to sell?"

"I'm sure."

"Are there still people living in the unit?"

I pulled up the home security cameras on my phone. The living room was a mess. Empty wine bottles lay tipped over on the carpet, and ring lights and shipping boxes from last night's livestream were piled on the couch.

Alec Devlin was making coffee for Hannah Brixton. The other two, Nicole Ellis and Tori Saunders, had not come out of the guest room yet.

On screen, the four of them looked completely at home, as if the apartment belonged to them.

"It'll be cleared out today."

After I hung up, I opened the smart lock's admin panel.

The system listed four permanent users. Alec Devlin, Hannah Brixton, Nicole Ellis, and Tori Saunders. My name was not among them.

After the renovations were finished, Alec told me the smart lock still needed calibrating and gave me a temporary passcode in the meantime.

I did not think much of it. This was the apartment I had bought for our future together, after all. He was a designer. Leaving the renovations to him had seemed like the obvious choice.

Only now did I understand. The system had never needed calibrating. He had simply forgotten to save a spot for me.

I selected each of the four names, one by one, and deleted them.

The lock prompted a confirmation: [Revoke all permanent access?]

I pressed 'confirm'.

Then I sent the agent the address along with photos of the property title. [You can come by this afternoon to take pictures.]

It was only after all of that was done that I remembered. Yesterday had also been my 30th birthday.

Alec did not remember, but I had been the one to pick up a birthday cake for his childhood friend.

He had texted me that afternoon asking me to grab it. He said he was busy and told me to pick it up on my way home from work.

The cake was probably gone by now. I did not see whose name was written on it until last night.

It was not Mallory Keating. It was Hannah Brixton.

At 10:00 am, I went back to the apartment.

Alec was standing outside the front door, pressing his finger against the lock over and over.

"What's going on?" He turned the moment he saw me.

"Is the lock broken?"

I entered the admin password, and the door opened.

He followed me inside, visibly irritated. "Why are all our fingerprints disabled?"

"I deleted them."

The living room went quiet. Hannah poked her head out from the kitchen, wearing my bathrobe.

"Mal, come on. Isn't that a bit much?" She leaned against the doorframe.

"Everyone just had a little too much to drink last night. We didn't want you coming in and starting a fight, so we figured you could cool off at a hotel for one night."

She used my nickname like we were close, but there was not a trace of remorse in her eyes.

Nicole came downstairs with a yawn. "It's just a lock. Can't you just add everyone back? We're all going to keep coming over anyway."