Paid in Full for Family Love novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The door closed behind me. Through the gap heard Jen whisper, “Think she’d actually pay for dinner if she stayed?”

Mom’s voice drifted out, smug and certain. “Emily’s always been good for it. She’d never leave us hanging.”

My family.

They even budget for dinner now.

I laughed, just a little, under my breath and walked downstairs.

Back to my cramped rental. Laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. My brain wouldn’t shut

Flashes of everything I’d done for them. Staying up all night comparing tile samples and contractor quotes. Haggling at hardware stores until my throat hurt.

The sinking feeling every month when the mortgage withdrawal hit my account and my balance dropped to triple digits.

I made decent money. Lived like I was broke.

Because I thought, I really thought, I was building something. A safety net. A place I

could always come home to.

Guess I was wrong.

Then my phone buzzed. Mom’s Instagram. “So excited!! Family trip tomorrow!!”

Four photos. Mom, Mike, Jen, all smiling.

What a happy family.

I double-tapped. Like.

Then I scrolled to my contractor.

“Rich? It’s Emily Carter. The Maple Street reno, you remember?”

He answered right away. “Of course, Ms. Carter. Put a lot of work into that one. Everything okay? Need repairs?”

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“No. I need you to undo it.”

Silence on his end.

“…Undo it?”

“Everything I paid to put in? Take it all out.”

Another pause. Longer.

“Ms. Carter, you’re talking about stripping a fully finished house back to studs. You put

serious money into that place. Why would you…”

“Personal reasons.”

I kept my voice flat.

“Tomorrow. Two days to finish. I’ll pay rush rates plus overtime.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then,

“Okay. If that’s what you want. We’ll be there at eight.”

“Good. I’ll meet you.”

I sent the deposit. Texted work I needed personal days.

Next morning, I let myself in. The lock was still programmed to my thumbprint.

Rich and his crew showed up twenty minutes later. He stood in the foyer, looking at the warm wood floors, the soft lighting, the kitchen backsplash I’d spent three weekends

picking out.

“…You sure about this?”

I looked around the room. Every tile. Every ou let placement. The cabinet pulls I ordered from three different websites before I found the right ones.

I thought about how much I used to love this house.

“Yes,” I said. “Everything I paid for. Take it.”

They got to work.

Drills. Crowbars. Hammers, Dust everywhere Pretty walls turned to rubble. The floor

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I’d picked got peeled up like old wallpaper.

One and a half days, and it was done.

Rich wiped concrete dust off his face. Handed me a list.

“Everything’s out. Personal belongings are boxed in the corner. Some of the appliances and furniture, we can probably sell them secondhand if you want.”

I scanned the list. Things I’d once agonized over. Things I’d loved.

“Sell what you can. Trash the rest.”

He made some calls. A salvage truck came, loaded up my careful selections, and drove

away.

The house was empty now.

Paw concrete. Bare studs. Exactly how it looked before I ever touched it.

I stood in the silence for a minute. Then I locked up and left.

The next morning, my phone woke me screaming.

It was Mom.

“Emily, Mike and Jen, they’re fighting…” her voice broke, gasping. “Someone’s going to die… you have to come home…”

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