Sadie heard the commotion downstairs. It was loud enough to disturb her tenants. Sadie took her responsibility to her tenants seriously. Then there was her son who put up with the constant abuse this woman dealt out. She feared for everyone—including herself.
Sadie made her way downstairs slowly, carefully. Age forced this. One stair at a time towards danger. Her heart revolted—blood plunging through it with anticipation. She was afraid.
Sadie had already lost one tenant due to her son’s girlfriend’s drug-addled dementia. She couldn’t afford to lose another. The woman slammed doors so violently the house trembled, and she screamed her rage at empty ears. It happened so often almost nobody listened.
Sadie entered the second floor with trepidation. Each step towards the commotion in the front of the house was laced with fear. Her son was not going to stop anything. He knew of his mother’s plight and did nothing. It…
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