The Landlord's Game of Control

nt, I couldn't breathe. That little piece of baked clay was everything. It was my son, Leo, at five years

ut through the tens

do you think

him. He was bigger than Henderson, a solid wall of muscle from his construction job, and his face was a thunderstorm. He took in

t yell. He walked slowly, deliberately, u

ster's property?" Mark asked

by the police presen

rstanding. The she

d at me. "Are you okay, Sa

rds catching in my throat. "Carbon mono

back to Henderson, and the quiet

g a finger at Henderson

n's arm spoke up. "Sir, we have thi

rk's expensive work boots and clean jacket.

back rent! And now, damages! The fire department's intervention, the emergency repairs

For, say, five thousand dollars. Cash. To cover the damages and the rest of her lease. The

n, right in front of tw

rk held up a hand, stopping

y tear-streaked one. He looked at the shatt

p breath. "Fi

I cried out.

e was thinking about Mom in the hospital. He was thinking about getting me and Leo

ed for h

ision. Your sister here, she's all emotion, no logi

you. You make a mess. You fall behind on bills. You let your kid run wild, breaking things..." H

napped. I was weak, I was scared, I was exhausted, but a fire was lit. My dad didn't

ncient system, but the "ALL-CALL" button was still there, used for fire drills.

lway, and I could hear it click on in every apart

rd, Mr. Henderson, is trying to extort five thousand dollars from my brother after his neglected furnace put my mot

on other floors. Voices mur

orted in fury. "Turn

faster. He blocked him with his

ive in hazardous conditions for weeks! He called me hysterical! He said my sick moth

enly vanished. Black spots danced in my vision. The effort of the shout, the str

me, his face a mixture of fear and fierce pride, and t