Chapter 1

I paid $2,500 for a live-in housekeeper to look after my cat and house while I was away for eighteen days.

The night I returned, I stood at my front door, dragging two suitcases. I typed the password three times.

The screen flashed red: *Incorrect password.*

I thought my brain was fried from a dozen hours on the plane. I glanced down at my phone memo.

No, it was right.

0529.

That was the temporary password I’d set for Maggie, the housekeeper, before I left.

I typed it again.

Still incorrect.

Suddenly, a man’s voice came from inside: "Who is it? Annoying! Stop pressing the button, my kid's sleeping."

I froze.

This was clearly my home.

Standing at my own front door, I was being told off by a stranger inside.

I rang the doorbell.

After about ten seconds, the door opened a crack.

A man in his thirties peered out, his hair messy, wearing the grey slippers I kept by the door.

He looked me up and down. "Who are you looking for?"

I stared at the slippers on his feet.

"I think that's my question."

The man frowned. "Who are *you*?"

"I'm the owner of this apartment."

His expression stiffened. He turned and yelled into the house, "Mom! The landlord's back!"

Landlord?

My blood boiled.

The door swung fully open.

I saw a little boy sitting in the living room, watching cartoons on my tablet.

Takeout boxes were scattered on the table, and some children's clothes were tossed on the sofa.

The balcony door was half-open, and a mix of smoke and cooking smells wafted out.

On my white carpet, there was a dark brown food stain.

In the kitchen, a woman with permed hair emerged, holding a pot. She paused when she saw me.

The enamel pot in her hand was one I’d paid over $450 for.

Before I could speak, the master bedroom door opened.

Maggie walked out.

She was wearing my silk robe.

I'd washed that robe and stored it deep inside my closet before leaving.

"Ms. Vance, what are you doing back today?"

Her tone was so natural, as if she were asking why I was home early from work.

I looked at her.

"It's my own home, can't I come back?"

Maggie's face looked a little awkward, but she quickly smiled. "That's not what I meant. Didn't you say you'd be back on the second?"

"I changed my flight, came back two days early."

I pointed at the people in the living room. "Who are they?"

Before Maggie could speak, the man said, "I'm her son."

The woman from the kitchen chimed in, "I'm her daughter-in-law."

The little boy on the sofa held up the tablet. "Grandma, I want yogurt!"

I let out a laugh.

"So I paid $2,500 for a housekeeper, went on vacation, and came back to find your whole family living in my house?"

Maggie's face darkened. "Ms. Vance, that's a bit much. An old woman like me, living in a big house like this, gets scared. So I had my family come keep me company. What's wrong with that?"

"Keep you company?"

I stepped further inside.

Carter blocked the doorway. "Hey, hold on, don't come in. The kid just fell asleep."

I stared at him. "Move."

He didn't budge.

Maggie quickly intervened, "Carter, don't argue with Eleanor. Ms. Vance, everyone's had a long day. Let's talk tomorrow."

"I'll talk now."

I put my suitcases by the door, pulled out my phone, and opened a photo of the contract.

"My contract with the domestic services agency is for eighteen days of live-in service, costing $2,500. The contract clearly states that the service provider is you, Maggie, alone. You're to stay in the housekeeper's room, no outsiders are allowed to stay overnight, the master bedroom is off-limits, and you are not to touch the owner's personal belongings."

I looked up at the robe she was wearing.

"Now, explain yourself."

Maggie's face fell.

She tugged the robe's tie tighter. "My clothes were still wet from washing. What's wrong with borrowing one of yours? It's not like I ruined it."

Mia, her daughter-in-law, put the pot on the stove. "Ms. Vance, right? Your house is just sitting empty anyway. What's the harm in us staying for a few days? Is it going to collapse?"

I looked at her.

"You're using my kitchen, sleeping in my room, wearing my clothes, and now you're asking me, 'a few days'?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Wealthy people are always so particular."

Carter leaned against the shoe rack, his tone sharp. "My mom's been here, working her butt off taking care of your house and cat. And you come back and give us a hard time? What's the deal?"

That's when I remembered my cat.

"Where's my cat?"

Maggie's eyes darted away. "On the balcony."

I pushed past Carter and walked to the balcony.

He reached out to stop me. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing my cat."

In the corner of the balcony, my cat was curled up in its bed, its fur matted.

The water bowl was empty.

The litter box was overflowing.

I crouched down and called to it. It looked up at me, its voice hoarse, barely a meow.

I couldn't hold back my fury any longer!

"Maggie."

I turned to her.

"Those photos you sent me every day, where did they come from?"

She stammered. "I took them."

"The water bowl's empty, the litter box is like this, and you tell me you've been taking care of it every day?"

Maggie frowned. "Cats are sensitive animals; I'm not a vet!"

I stood up.

"All of you, get out of my house. Now."

Carter scoffed.

"Where are we supposed to go at this hour? Besides, my mom's contract isn't even over yet."

I looked at him. "The contract is for her to work, not for me to hand my house over to your family."

Maggie suddenly sat on the sofa, slapping her thigh. "Oh, these young women today, they turn on you in an instant! Before she left, it was all sweet talk, 'just leave the house to me, take whatever you need.' Now she's back and kicking us out."

She pulled out her phone. "I have a voice message!"

I watched her coldly.

She played the voice message.

It was from the day I left.

"Maggie, I really appreciate you taking care of things around the house for this period. Cat food is in the cabinet, you can eat the groceries in the fridge, and let me know if you need anything."

Maggie held up the phone. "Listen, she herself said to leave the house to me."

I looked at her face.

In that instant, I knew.

This person wasn't confused.

She knew exactly what she was doing.