The living room was so quiet that all one could smell was the stir-fried food.

Everyone was staring at me.

I looked down and opened the dialer on my phone.

My finger hovered over the alarm key.

Before I could press it, Liam walked over and blocked my phone screen.

"Chloe, I'll give you one last chance."

His voice wasn't loud.

Just loud enough for everyone in the living room to hear.

"Put the phone down, sign the paper, and we'll treat today's events as a misunderstanding."

I looked up.

"A misunderstanding?"

He tugged at his collar.

"When you weren't home, the Henderson family helped you watch over the house. You come back and call them thieves immediately—do you think that’s appropriate?"

Mrs. Henderson immediately chimed in.

"Exactly. We helped your house get some air, helped you clean, and helped you take care of your flowers. You don't even thank us, and yet you want to call the police."

I looked toward the balcony.

The leaves of the rose pot were scattered all over the floor, and the bottom of the pot was sitting in stagnant water.

The "cleaning" she spoke of was stuffing my belongings into a storage cabinet.

The "help" she spoke of was wearing the pajamas my mother bought for me and cooking stir-fry in my kitchen.

Mr. Henderson picked up the agreement on the coffee table.

"Ms. Chloe, adults deal with evidence. The agreement has your signature, and the compensation has a witness."

I asked: "Who is the witness?"

Martha cleared her throat.

"Mr. Liam mentioned it to the management office at the time."

"Did you see me sign it with your own eyes?"

Martha avoided my gaze.

"Property management is not a notary office; we are only responsible for registration."

Julia stood behind me, speaking firmly.

"Where is the registration form?"

Martha was stunned.

Julia continued to ask: "When outsiders move in, did property management keep a copy of the property owner’s ID card, an authorization letter, or a record of contact information confirmation? Did you verify the property ownership certificate?"

Martha’s fingers pressed down on the logbook.

"This... the situation was special at the time."

Julia gave a small laugh.

"Special enough to bypass verifying the owner herself?"

Martha couldn't hold onto her composure.

Mr. Henderson frowned.

"Who are you? Is it your place to speak here?"

I said: "My friend, and someone who understands the law."

The living room went quiet for a beat.

Chapter 9

Mrs. Henderson gave a huff.

"So what if you understand the law? Understanding the law doesn't mean you can turn black into white."

Sarah took out her phone to record a video.

"Dad, don’t be afraid. She’s just trying to scare people."

I looked at her phone.

"What are you filming?"

Sarah lifted her chin.

"Recording you bullying our family."

I nodded.

"Record it clearly."

Sarah froze.

She hadn’t expected me not to stop her.

The people most desperate to create a narrative are the ones most afraid that you won't be intimidated.

Liam lowered his voice.

"Chloe, that’s enough. Mr. Henderson is not someone you can afford to offend. He has many connections; if you blow this up, I won't have an easy time at work."

For the first time, I understood.

He wasn't afraid of the marriage being ruined.

He was afraid that his own career path would be affected.

I asked him: "So you gave away my home in exchange for favors for yourself?"

Liam’s expression turned ugly.

"Don't make it sound so dirty."

"It’s the act that is dirty, not the words."

Uncle Zhou could no longer sit still.

"Young Lin, why don't we verify the compensation fee first. Mr. Liam, you said the money was collected, do you have a receipt?"

Liam opened his mouth.

Mr. Henderson cut him off: "Between acquaintances, where do you find so many formalities? It’s about trust."

I looked at him.

"Are you and I considered acquaintances?"

Mr. Henderson sneered.

"Now you’re pretending we aren't? It wasn’t like this when the agreement was signed."

He spread the housing agreement out in the center of the coffee table.

"Everyone look, black and white. If she calls the police, I’ll sue her for false accusation. She says the jewelry box is lost, but who saw it?"

Mrs. Henderson straightened her back.

"When we moved in, her bedroom was already messy."

Sarah added: "That’s right, we didn’t touch it."

Mr. Henderson’s son, Chen Hao, had been sitting in the corner the whole time.

In his twenties, wearing a cap, looking down at his phone.

Hearing this, he looked up at me once, then quickly looked down again.

The movement was subtle.

But I saw it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know.

He just thought that silence would keep him clean.

Mr. Henderson slammed his pen onto the table.

"Sign it. Once you sign, we will move out after staying the full three months. If you don't sign, we’ll follow the legal process. By then, not only will your wedding be off, but you won't have a peaceful home either."

Mrs. Henderson laughed maliciously.

"A woman, don't run yourself into a situation where no one wants you."

Liam did not stop her.

He even whispered: "Chloe, just sign it."

I looked at him.

This man I had been with for three years.

The one who once brought me porridge by my mother’s hospital bed.

The one who once said he would shield me from the wind.

Now, he was standing in the middle of a group of people who had occupied my home, urging me to acknowledge their lie.

Some betrayals don’t happen suddenly.

They were hidden all along, buried in every "don’t be so difficult."

Julia touched my arm lightly.

She was reminding me.

The time had come.

I looked down and pressed the alarm key.

The call connected.

My voice was steady.

"Hello, I would like to report a crime."

All sound in the living room stopped.

Mr. Henderson stood up abruptly.

Liam reached out to stop me.

I took half a step back, avoiding his hand.

"I was away for a month for a work assignment, and when I returned home, I found my neighbor, Mr. Henderson and his family, living in my house without permission."

Mrs. Henderson interrupted with a shrill cry.

"Who lived here without permission? We have an agreement!"

I looked at her and continued:

"The jewelry box and housing documents in my bedroom drawer are missing."

Sarah’s phone was still held up.

The lens was pointed at me.

I said every word clearly:

"There are thieves in my house."

Chapter 10

Mr. Henderson’s face darkened.

"Chloe, think clearly about what you're doing!"

I didn't look at him.

"Please proceed with the police report."

After I hung up the phone, the living room felt as if all sound had been drained out of it.

A few seconds later, Mr. Henderson laughed.

It wasn’t a laugh of panic, but the contempt of someone pushed to extreme rage.

"Fine, call the police. It’ll be just as well for them to come and see who is actually slandering whom."

Martha quickly tried to smooth things over.

"Ms. Chloe, you are being too impulsive. Before the matter is cleared up, calling the police will affect neighborhood relations."

Julia opened the file folder.

"Then let’s clear it up."

Liam stared at the file folder, his eyes beginning to dart around nervously.

I took a stack of materials from Julia.

I didn't spread them out immediately.

Mr. Henderson was still laughing.

Mrs. Henderson stood with her arms crossed, as if waiting to see me humiliate myself.

Sarah’s phone camera wobbled.

I placed the materials on the coffee table.

My finger pressed down on the notary receipt on top.

"Aren't you asking for evidence?"

I pushed the first document to the center of the coffee table.

The notary office’s tracking receipt—the time, the file number—was perfectly clear.

The second document was a screenshot from a video I took before I left.

It showed the jewelry box in the drawer, the copy of the property deed, and the bedroom door lock all in the same frame.

The third was the log for the bedroom door lock.

At 1:08 AM on the seventh day after I left, it was opened with the spare key.

The fourth was the footage saved by the living room camera.

At 1:21 AM on the same night, Liam entered the door.

Behind him was Mr. Henderson.

The living room went completely silent.

The smirk on Mr. Henderson’s face remained frozen.

Mrs. Henderson dropped her arms from her chest.

Liam stared at the words "spare key," saying nothing.

Sarah held her phone up, but her wrist began to sink.

Mr. Henderson was the first to react.

He reached out to grab the records.

Julia pressed her hand down on the files first.

"You can look, but you cannot take them."

Mr. Henderson sneered.

"You think a few pieces of paper can scare me? Who knows if you forged them yourself?"