The little house was never sold. With a tug, the gate opened and Gloria walked inside. The house was filled with the smell of mold.

The house was old and in disrepair. Puddles of water had formed everywhere from the leaking pipes, and still, it was barely habitable.

After deciding to live here, she took a few of her mother’s paintings out of the wooden crates and sold them to an art gallery.

She only earned a small amount of money, but it was still enough for the two of them to live off of for a few months.

But their happy days were numbered.

One afternoon, on the way home from the market, Gloria wheeled her daughter in her stroller but stopped when she saw visitors in the little courtyard outside. They were from the Shaw family.

They changed the locks and locked up the house. Then, they threw away some of the daily necessities in the house. Before they left, they even said, “Nowadays, the world is filled with all sorts of people! Even a tiny, rundown house like this where s