ELARA’S POV The first thing I heard when I stepped through the door of my own home was laughter, and it did not belong to anyone I loved. I stood in the doorway of the small apartment on Crest Lane with my work shoes still on and my uniform smelling. Looking closer, I watched three women I had never seen before sit around my mother's kitchen table as if they owned it, laughing at something on a phone screen. My mother, Martha Hale, stood beside the stove with her back turned and her shoulders pulled tight like she was trying to disappear into the wall. I recognized one of the women immediately, and my stomach dropped hard and fast. It was Donna Pryce, the landlord's assistant, she was holding a white envelope in her hand, tapping it against the table. "There she is," Donna spat out mockingly, looking directly at me without smiling. The other two women stopped laughing and looked over as well, and I felt nervous suddenly. "We have been waiting for you," Donna said, pla
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