The dream began with a question, spoken in a bewildered murmur as the woman at the door clutched the frame. “What are you doing here? We didnt expect you to turn up like this”
Rita switched off the engine and stared through the windshield at the little cottage. Nothing had changedthe same blue roof, the same birch trees lining the perimeter, the same green-painted gate her father had once touched up. Only the light on the porch seemed out of place. Neighbors, perhaps? But the neighbors knew she hadnt visited in nearly a year.
She reached for her bag in the backseatthen froze. Someone was moving in the garden. A shadow flickered between the apple trees, then reappeared closer to the house. A woman in a T-shirt and shorts, a child in her arms.
“What on earth” Rita muttered, stepping out of the car.
She approached the gate and stopped dead. From inside the house came voices, laughter, the clink of dishes. Baby clothes dried on the porch railing. Three bicyclestwo adult, one childsleaned against the shed. The gate was unlocked. She pushed it open with a familiar creak.
Her feet carried her to the porch. Only one thought pulsed in her mind: someone was living here. In *her* house. The front door was ajar, and in the hallway, she nearly tripped over a pair of tiny sandals. Strangers coats hung on the pegs. Two large suitcases sat in the corner beside a basket of toys.
Her heartbeat thrummed in her throat. From the kitchen, a womans voice chattered about tomorrows forest walk, followed by a childs laughter and the rustle of plates. The scent of fried potatoes and dill drifted through the air.
“Mum, can we go to the river tomorrow?” a boys voice piped up.
“Well see, Oliver. If it doesnt rain”
Rita took a step toward the kitchen. Another. Then she halted in the doorway.
A man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a checked shirt, sat at the table. Beside him, a woman of the same ageblonde hair tied backbalanced a little girl on her lap. Across from them, a boy of about eight waved a fork excitedly as he spoke.
The woman noticed Rita first. Her face went slack. A teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.
“What are you doing here?” she stammered. “We never thought youd come back”
Rita recognized the voice. Julia. Her ex-husbands sister. Once friendly, even sweetuntil the divorce. Then shed vanished.
“Julia?” Ritas voice came out hoarse. “What are you doing here?”
The manJulias husband, presumablyrose slowly. His face flushed. The children fell silent, staring at the stranger in their kitchen.
“Rita,” he began. “We thought Well, Daniel said you didnt come here anymore. That the house was just sitting empty.”
“Daniel said that?” Ritas face burned. “And what else did Daniel say?”
Julia picked up the broken teacup, still cradling her daughter, who whimpered and clung tighter.
“We didnt mean any harm,” Julia said quickly. “Its justwere on holiday, and renting a place is so expensive. Daniel said the keys were still here from when we all visited. Remember? Your birthday, three years ago”
“The keys were here,” Rita repeated slowly. “So you decided to move in?”
“Wed have asked,” Julias husband cut in. “But your number we didnt know how to reach you.”
Rita blinked. Did they genuinely think the only problem was that they hadnt asked? That shed have happily handed over her house if theyd just *phoned* first?
“How long have you been here?”
“A week,” Julia admitted quietly. “We planned to stay another ten days”
“Ten days,” Rita echoed.
The kitchen fell silent. The boy set down his fork. The little girl sniffled, sensing the tension.
“Rita,” Julias husband tried again. “We didnt mean to overstep. The house *was* empty. Weve kept it cleanwatered the plants, even mowed the lawn. Its not worse off.”
“Not worse off?” Ritas voice rose. “You broke into my house and made yourselves at home, and you think thats *fine*?”
“We didnt break in!” Julia snapped. “Daniel had the keys! We assumed”
“Assumed *what*? That Id died? That this place was up for grabs?”
Julia tightened her grip on her daughter. Her face paled.
“You dont understand,” she said, voice trembling. “We only get two weeks off a year. We cant afford rentals. The kids were so excited”
“And thats *my* problem?” Rita stepped forward. The family shrank back. “This is *my* house. Mine! I inherited it from my father!”
“We know,” Julias husband muttered. “We just thought”
“You thought you could take what wasnt yours?”
The boy burst into tears. Rita flinched. He was thin, with messy hair, his face streaked with snot and tears.
“Mum, do we have to go?” he sobbed. “What about the river? And the bikes?”
Ritas chest ached. The children werent to blame. They just wanted a holiday. Butthis was *her* home. The one place she could breathe.
“Rita,” Julia pleaded. “Please. Just a few more days. Weve already stocked up on food. The kids were so looking forward to it”
“And where am I supposed to stay? Outside?”
“The house is big,” Julias husband offered weakly. “Plenty of rooms. We could share”
Rita shot him a look that silenced him.
“Share? In *my* house?”
She scanned the kitchen. Strangers plates on the table. Strangers dishes in the sink. A vase of wildflowers on the windowsillone she remembered from childhood. The smell of potatoes frying.
Theyd settled in as if they belonged here. As if it were *theirs*.
“Wheres Daniel?” Rita asked suddenly.
Julia and her husband exchanged glances.
“Daniel? Why?”
“Because *he* had the keys. And *he* gave you permission, didnt he?”
“Daniels in town,” Julia said stiffly. “Hes busy.”
“Busy. Right.” Rita smiled coldly. “Too busy to stop handing out *my* house?”
Julias daughter started crying again. The boy hid his face in his sleeve.
“Rita, *please*,” Julia begged. “Were family. Werent we close once? Have some heart.”
“Family?” Rita scoffed. “We stopped being family the moment I divorced your brother.”
“But”
“No buts. Even if we *were* family, that doesnt give you the right to steal my home.”
Julia set her daughter down and straightened. Her eyes hardened.
“You know what, Rita?” Her voice was sharp now. “You *can* throw us out. But think about itthis place was empty for a year. We aired it out, cleaned it, even fixed up the garden. Must you be so *stingy*?”
Rita blinked.
“Stingy?” she echoed. “Im stingy because I wont let strangers live in my house?”
“Were not strangers! Weve known each other for years! And what does it cost you? You dont even *live* here!”
“And how do you know that?” Ritas voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe I was planning to move in for the summer?”
“Planning?” Julia snorted. “Were you planning that last year too? Or the year before?”
Rita clenched her fists. The audacity. First, theyd moved in uninvited. Now they were lecturing *her* about her own property?
“Listen carefully,” she said slowly. “Tomorrow morning, you pack up and leave. No arguments.”
“Rita, have you lost your mind?” Julia stepped forward, eyes blazing. “How *can* you?”
“*Ive* lost my mind? *You* broke into my house and acted like you owned it, and *Im* the unreasonable one?”
The boy wailed. The little girl joined in. The kitchen filled with the sound of crying.
“See what youve done?” Julia shouted over the noise. “Are you happy now?”
Rita looked at the children and felt something twist inside her. Pity? Guilt? Butwhy should she pay for their parents greed?
“You did this to them,” she said. “Not me.”
“We just wanted a holiday!” Julia hugged her daughter tighter. “Is that so terrible?”
“Take a holiday somewhere else. Not in *my* house.”
“Where?” Julias husband burst out. “Where are we supposed to go? We can
