Chapter 5 - The Countdown to January 22nd

The days leading up to January 22nd felt like walking through a slow-motion cinematic thriller. Every interaction with my family was filled with smug text messages, unsolicited advice on where I should rent my new "tiny studio," and patronizing reminders that "family always sticks together."
My mother called me on Wednesday night—the eve of the move.
“Jessi, darling, I hope you’re packed and ready to stay at your friend’s place tomorrow night. Chloe and Flynn are going to start moving the heavy bedroom sets in right after the truck arrives at 10:00 AM. We’re all coming over around noon to celebrate the handover with takeout pizza.”
“I’ll be out of the apartment by morning, Mom,” I replied smoothly, letting a heavy, theatrical sigh escape my lips. “Enjoy your new place.”
“Now don’t use that tone with me,” my mother snapped defensively, her guilt momentarily piercing through her arrogance. “You have a great career. You can buy another place whenever you want. Chloe has two kids! It’s called basic family solidarity.”
“Of course,” I murmured. “Goodnight, Mom.”
I hung up, walked over to my bedroom window, and looked out at the glittering skyline of the financial district. My apartment sat on the twelfth floor of The Meridian, one of the most exclusive residential complexes in the city. It featured 24-hour concierge service, biometric elevators, private parking garages, and a security team trained to treat unauthorized visitors with polite, unyielding hostility.
May you like
The management company took illegal occupancy and unauthorized subletting extremely seriously. And thanks to Evelyn Vance’s legal filings submitted earlier that week, my apartment unit had been flagged in the central security database with a permanent red alert: No visitors, no movers, and no secondary occupants permitted without primary owner biometric verification.
My family thought they were orchestrating a smooth transition. They had no idea they were walking straight into a high-tech fortress designed to lock them out permanently.