Discomfort in the Air
Guests fidgeted uneasily as Harold flashed a smug smirk, wearing his false confidence like armor. “Relax, Charlotte,” he drawled, waving me off with casual dismissal. The tension in the room thickened, discomfort rippling through the crowd as they avoided my gaze. I stood firm, unyielding, the weight of the moment pressing heavily. This was my fight, my home—an unwavering resolve burned within me. Justice was coming, and soon, it would be mine.
Discomfort In The Air
Gathering Evidence
Determined to strengthen my case, I began gathering evidence of their blatant trespass—photos, videos, even timestamps. “This will prove it,” I murmured, transforming my phone into a weapon of justice. Each piece of evidence brought me closer to reclaiming what was rightfully mine. I was resolute; they would not enjoy another moment of unauthorized indulgence under my roof.
Gathering Evidence
