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616words2026-01-27 09:12

My vacation ended early. I returned to my apartment in Portsmouth.
But there was a strange woman was in my house.
And she called me a thief.

"My husband just bought me this place," she snarled.
"Two days in, and I already have a burglar. How freakin' unlucky! Let me teach you some manners!"
She beat me until I was spitting blood and covered in wounds, only stopping when I was barely breathing.
Then, scared of the consequences, she decided to get rid of the evidence by sealing me inside a wall.
The noise brought the neighbors, who called the cops.
I woke up in the hospital.

My mother, who finally showed up, said her first words to me.
"I gave your condo to your cousin. That was his wife you met."
"Sign the waiver of prosecution. Or we're done as a family."
...

My vacation ended early.
My husband, Zachary, had to rush to the office to handle a crisis.
I got to our building and saw a light on in our unit. Did we forget to turn it off?
The moment I opened the door, a stranger clubbed me over the head.
When I came to, I was tied up with rope and dumped on the bathroom floor.
Smack.A heavy slap exploded across my face.
I forced myself to stay calm, spitting out the coppery taste in my mouth.
"Who are you? If it's money you want, take everything from the safe. Just—"
Smack. Smack.Two more brutal blows cut me off before I could finish.
My head swam, vision blurring.
"Playing dumb, huh, you little thief?" she sneered. "What's next? 'Wrong apartment'? Give me a break!"
A thief?
There had to be a mistake.
Terrified she'd do something worse, I pleaded, "This is my home. Look in the nightstand drawer on the right side of the master bed. The deed is there. You'll see."
She looked at me like I'd told the world's dumbest joke.
"What nonsense! My husband bought this for me!"
"Just go look. Please. It's the truth."
Frowning, half-convinced, she warned, "If you're lying, you'll regret ever being born."
As she left, I finally let out a shaky breath of relief.
Moments later, she came back holding the property deed.
Then she kicked me square in the chest and stomped on my hand, grinding her heel down.
I curled into a ball on the floor, howling in agony.
"Ah! God, stop! You saw the deed! I'm not a thief!"
She picked up a brow razor from the sink.
The cold blade pressed against my cheek.
Trembling with fear, I tried to shrink back.
"What are you doing? This is illegal! I won't press charges for what you did here. I'll sign anything!"
"Still lying, you bitch!" she hissed.
With a sharp movement of her hand, searing pain sliced across my face. Blood welled up.
"You dare call this your house? Look! Look at the name on this deed!"
She shoved the paper in my face. "Think I can't mess you up? You're just a thief!"
She slashed my arm several more times.
Skin split, blood welled. My vision darkened.
The pain was so intense that I didn't even have the strength to scream.
She grabbed my chin, forcing my head up, holding the deed right before my eyes.
It was the condo Zachary and I bought together.
His razor, the one I bought him, was right there on the counter.
But the name on the deed was 'Naomi Carson'.
Who the hell was she?
Before I could utter another word, Naomi—this stranger—grabbed my hair and smashed my head against the tile wall.
I struggled, but bound and beaten, I was powerless.