My phone started to vibrate on the nightstand. I rolled toward it and answered, expecting maybe a malfunction or some kind of fire drill.
Instead, I heard Trent from security, and his voice shook in a way I had never heard before. He said that my sister Lydia and her husband were downstairs in the lobby. He said they had arrived with a moving truck and were insisting they owned my place.
Now, he said, they were asking that I come down immediately and leave the condo because they were taking possession today.
For a few seconds, I listened without saying a word. There was something almost surreal in hearing my life described as if it were already gone.
I told him that it was fine, that he should let them sign in.
Then I wheeled myself toward the kitchen area and reached for the mug I had left on the counter the night before. The coffee inside was cold, but that familiar bitterness grounded me. I took a slow sip and breathed in.
