Chapter 4

Two weeks after she moved in. Friday.

Right on schedule, just like last time, I got a message from her.

"Hey, I think the fridge is broken. The door won't close properly and the food inside went bad."

"Could you maybe get someone out to fix it?"

I stared at the screen and smirked.

Here we go.

In my last life, it was the same thing.

The fridge today, the water heater tomorrow.

Anything that made her stay less than perfect was suddenly "broken."

And I'd dutifully pay for repairs.

All smiles and apologies, terrified she might be uncomfortable.

This time, I replied right away.

"It's less than a month old. How is it broken already?"

"If it really is, hire someone yourself and deduct the cost from the rent."

Silence on the other end.

She clearly hadn't expected that response.

Ten minutes later, she replied with two words.

"Got it."

I set my phone down, knowing better.

She was definitely cooking up something.

Sure enough, half an hour later.

I found her latest video.

Her account was called "Renting Rookie Diaries."

Same as last time.

The first video was from moving day.

The caption read:

"Finally found the place of my dreams. The landlord is so nice, she even agreed to let me pay monthly."

The comments were all praising how kind I was.

I smirked.

She knew to build the good-girl image first.

That way, the reversal later would hit harder.

Praise first, then attack.

Maximize the emotional whiplash.

Her newest post had just gone up.

A photo of the AC unit, set to sad music.

The caption: "Just graduated and already stuck with a terrible landlord. The fridge is broken and she won't even fix it. So cold."

I opened the comments.

A few fake accounts were already posting.

"What kind of landlord is that? Despicable!"

"Hang in there, girl. Landlords are all like that. Only care about collecting money."

I looked at those comments and almost laughed.

I took screenshots and saved every single one.

Evidence.

Time flew by, and rent day arrived.

I checked my bank account.

Balance unchanged.

Just as I expected.

Sophie's rent hadn't come through.

In my last life, it was the same story.

First came the excuses, then the stalling. When I lost patience and pushed, she'd play the victim.

Finally, she'd force me to come in person, handing her the perfect footage for her next smear campaign.

I picked up my phone and sent a text.

"Sophie, rent is due."

Ten minutes passed.

She sent a voice message, her breathing rushed.

"I'm so sorry, but my company delayed our paychecks this month. Could you give me two days? Just two days!"

Two days?

"Two days" would stretch from the fifth to the end of the month.

In the end, not only would the rent go unpaid, she'd rack up a massive utility bill too.

I wasn't falling for that. I texted back.

"The lease is crystal clear. Payment due by the fifth of each month."

"Late fees accrue daily after that."

"This isn't a matter of 'giving you a few days.' This is what the contract says."

After the message went through, the chat showed "typing..." at the top.

Then it stopped.

A second later, my phone rang.

Sophie was calling.

I answered and put it on speaker.

"Please..."

Her voice cracked, as if she'd been dealt some terrible injustice.

"I'm really not doing this on purpose. My company genuinely hasn't paid us yet... I don't even have money for food..."

"What if I transfer, like, three hundred first? I'll get the rest to you in a few days..."

See? The classic "pay a little now, stall the rest forever" move. She had it down to an art.

The moment I agreed to take that three hundred, the remaining five hundred would be gone forever.

I cut her off, my tone devoid of warmth.

"If your company isn't paying you, take it up with your boss. File a complaint with the labor board."

"Don't come to me."

"If you can't pay, borrow the money. Or move out."

"Per the lease, late payment gives me the right to terminate and reclaim the property."

Silence on the other end.

A few seconds later, the sobbing act vanished.

In its place, an annoyed, cold huff.

"Seriously? You're going to be this cold about it?"

"I'm only a couple days late and you're kicking me out?"

"We're both women. Can't you cut me some slack?"

Her voice pitched up sharply, almost grating.

I laughed.

Cold?

I follow the contract and that makes me cold?

She skips out on rent, freeloads off my property, and what does that make her? Kind?

"Sophie, you signed your name. Honor it."

"Don't play the gender card to guilt me."

"This isn't a charity. You've got the wrong address."

After I finished, a heavy breath came through the phone.

She was clearly furious.

"Fine! I'll pay!"

"It's just eight hundred. What a miserable person you are!"

"You'll get yours someday."

She hung up hard.

Whether I'd get mine, who knew. But she definitely would.