Chapter 3

3: 3

3

I scrubbed hard at the sticky, stinking egg film in the corner of my eye.

"Talk. What happened."

Figures slipped through the garage, furtive, keeping to the shadows.

I hadn't even had time to process what Lucas said on the phone. I limped toward my car, fighting the sharp pain in my ankle.

When I looked up, my car was wrecked.

The windshield was smeared all over with egg.

Across the body, in red paint, someone had scrawled "slut" and "evil bitch."

The moment I got in, a résumé came through from Lucas.

Theodore Gray. About my age, by the look of him.

I drew in a breath and called the building's property office at once.

Handed the garage footage over to Legal.

I drove home in one of the company's spare cars.

The third floor was exactly what I'd expected.

My doorway looked just like the car.

A wall of red paint, rotten eggs, wilted vegetable leaves, funeral wreaths.

The doormat was back too.

Filthier and more disgusting than before, not washed at all.

A creak. Next door, Hope Chavez's door opened.

"Thank you all for caring. There really are more good people than bad in this world!"

The old hag's shrill voice bored straight into my ears.

She was holding the hands of two young people, seeing them off.

The moment the two saw me, their smiles dropped.

"Grandma Chavez, is this the trashy woman who bullies the old and weak?"

The old hag put on a mournful face and sniffled. "That's her!"

A hand came flying at my face.

I caught it and flung it away, hard.

"Ah, quite the grip!"

One of them staggered from the throw.

"Did you ever go to school? You can't even tell right from wrong!"

"You're the ones who did this to my doorway, aren't you!"

"Try that again and I'm calling the police. I'm recording all of this!" I pointed at the security camera and barked it out.

The instant she heard "police" again, Hope threw out a hand to hold the trolls back.

"Don't get hurt over me, dear. It's not worth it."

"Forget it, forget it."

"You can't beat her anyway."

I couldn't be bothered with her act. I grabbed the doormat and threw it in the trash.

I'm never buying another mat. Let's see where you smear your filth now.

No sooner had I stepped inside than Hope was screeching again in the residents' group chat.

"Somebody here — the eyes of the people see clearly!"

"Don't think you're something just because you sic the police on me!"

"I've booked you an appointment with the psych ward at the hospital. Go get yourself checked!"

Impotent rage. I didn't bother answering her.

Once I had all the evidence in order, I'd sue her and this whole pack of trolls who couldn't tell right from wrong.

The old hag went quiet for two days.

Then she actually laid a brand-new doormat down at my door.

By evening she'd smeared it filthy all over again.

I don't know if she's got some kind of fetish, this compulsion to smear things at a neighbor's door.

That day, the moment I walked through the building's entrance, a message came in from Legal.

The evidence on Theodore Gray's bribery and the trolls' property damage was all there.

All it needed was my signature to file suit right away.

Time to bring this to a close.

I looked at the message, thoroughly satisfied.

Then I looked up. Was that a huge payment-demand notice posted inside the elevator?

I looked closer. The person being dunned was me!

"Ms. Lawrence of 302 owes Hope Chavez of 301 the full sum of ten thousand dollars for a doormat purchase.

Please pay by midnight today. Overdue accounts will be pursued through legal proceedings."

Dated today.

My phone buzzed again.

Hope, chasing the debt in the residents' group chat.

"Lawrence."

"You used the doormat I bought for days without a word, and you still won't pay!"

"Settle it by midnight tonight!"

"Ten thousand dollars!"

She dropped in a payment screenshot from some livestream shop where the mat was bought.

Then, right after, she dropped in a payment QR code.

So this was the trap all along.

Buys it for me on her own initiative, keeps smearing it once it's bought, and still wants me to pay?

I was about to argue back when I looked hard at it.

There, plain as day across the payment QR code, were two big words: Theodore Gray.