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“Did your professors do a lobotomy on your dumb ass? All that money spent to send you to college was a waste of fucking money. If you had just listened when everyone told you to stay away from Dante, we would not be going through any of this!”

Myla recoiled at the truth in her mother’s words.

Linda had no filter. She blamed Myla, 100%, for the state that their family was now in. The image of her granddaughter dead on the floor would never leave her mind. She had cried so many tears that her eyes were swollen and raw. Linda knew that as long as she lived, she would never forgive Myla for this level of selfishness. Myla knew that too.

“Ma, I know I messed up. I know everyone hates me right now. But I love him.”

Linda ended the call. Myla didn’t call back. There was no need; she had just pulled up to the home at 725 Windsor Wellington Estate Drive and entered *307625# on the keypad. Myla gasped at the notices she saw when she made it to the front of the house.

CONDEMNED

EMERGENCY ORDER

UNSAFE

DO NOT OCCUPY

POTENTIAL BIOHAZARD PRESENT

“What the fuck?” Myla said as she read the warnings.

There were so many warnings and colorful placards that the house resembled a hazardous billboard. In six months of dating, she had only been to Dante’s home once, on New Year’s when he asked her to bring the key.

This is the wealthiest neighborhood in the city. How is Dante’s house condemned? This can’t be right. Let me go around the back, Myla thought as she left the front, preparing to walk around. The home was massive. It seemed as though it took fifteen minutes to walk from the front of the home to the back.

The sound of laughter from the broken side door caught Myla’s attention. Reaching for a knob, she saw that there was none. Placing her fingers in the opening where the knob should be, she pulled the door open and followed Dante’s voice.

“I’m single. I don’t have a wife, girlfriend, and no, I don’t have any kids. It’s just me,” Dante said into the phone, smiling as he spoke.

Myla felt her heart shatter yet again. He had said the exact same thing to her the day he took her to breakfast. She had lost everything because of him, watched him having sex with someone in her home, and here he was in this janky-ass, dirt floor basement, smiling from ear to ear without a care in the world.

“The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist,” Myla said as she stood in the doorway.

Dante jumped in surprise. He never expected to hear anyone’s voice in his makeshift home.

“What are you doing here?” Dante asked calmly. He was annoyed that Myla had entered his space without permission.

Myla ignored the question.

“Heaven died. Mimi is in some sort of coma. And Ma is on an ‘I told you so’ rant. Why would you do this to me?” Myla asked with tears running down her face. She was hysterical. It was as if it had just hit her that her family was truly destroyed.

Dante was not moved. He had no concerns that he had opened Pandora’s Box.

“I didn’t do shit to you. If you had just minded your business; none of this would have happened. You put your hands on me, then played the victim. Typical Myla. Everything is always everyone else’s fault.”

Myla was in disbelief. Dante's audacity was astounding. Even though she heard what he said, she still couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Minded my business,” she repeated as if she were hearing things. “You fuck someone IN MY HOUSE! My home is my business. So, you believed that me catching you cheating on me was your time to expose my past mistakes.”

“You started the cheating with your coworker. So don’t get mad at me for giving you a taste of your own medicine. Now, why are you here?” Dante asked again. This conversation did not benefit him in any way.

Myla was speechless. Everything was gone. Her reputation, livelihood, and her family. She couldn’t believe that Dante was still acting as if the scenario he made up about her and the fake coworker was why he began seeing someone else. He acted as though none of this was his fault or his problem.

“Dante, my daughter is dead and—”

“And that doesn’t give you the right to barge in here,” Dante interrupted. “You refer to her as your daughter now that she’s dead. But when she was alive, she was your niece. Seems like the person with the problem here is you. Her death is the result of your actions. This is your problem, not mine. I’m on my way out. Give whatever remaining family you have left, my regards.” Dante smirked. He didn’t care about the destruction that he caused. To him, everything was Myla’s fault.

“Hazel was right. You are a narcissist.”